Becoming a Herondale (Unwillingly)
by AgentLadd
Summary: The Circle is an elite group of Nephilim charged with keeping their kin in check. Valentine Morgenstern, the leader, is in desperate need of secured grandchildren to keep the group going. And how does he do that? He marries his children off.
1. Chapter 1: I Can Help You

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Mortal Instruments nor any of the characters besides my own made up ones! All rights go to Cassandra Clare, her publishers, and the other rightful owners!**

**Chapter 1: Clary's POV**

"Clarissa!" My father's deep voice echoes through the manor and I jerk out of my drawing state. I was drawing a picture out of the _Codex_, trying to imitate the majesticness of the Mortal Sword. But alas, the grand beauty and fear-inducing aura is not one that can be duplicated.

"Clarissa!" Dad's voice is louder and more urgent this time. I grab a knife off the weapons wall in my art studio and strap it into the torso-sheath that's wrapped around my waist. I exit my studio, heading to Dad's study, where he most likely is. I was correct with the guess of him being in the study.

Sitting in front of my father's grand mahogany desk are Stephen and Céline Herondale. Next to them are Maryse and Robert Lightwood, with their son, Alexander, to the right of Maryse.

I cast my father a quizzical look as he beckons me over. He pulls me down so he can whisper in my ear. He says, "Go grab Jonathan and Sebastian as well as your mother. Isabelle and Max Lightwood are with your mother and Jace is with the twins. Tell them to come too."

I nod and exit quickly. My brain is whirling with guesses as to why my father gathered the three highest-ranking families in the Circle. I'm so deep into my thoughts that I almost run straight into Mom and the other Lightwood children.

Isabelle Lightwood, one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen, is weirdly chatting animatedly with Mom. They are two totally different personalities, and to find them this happy in a conversation with the other shocks me. _Today's full of surprises_, I think wryly.

Max sees me and manages to stop them before we run straight into each other.

"Clarissa, where have you been?" Mom asks.

"I was chasing a hippo down to the Gard," I respond sarcastically. Isabelle and Max snicker. "I was drawing, Mom. But anywho, Dad wants you, Isabelle, and Max to head to the study."

Mom tilts her head to the side, frowning. "Whatever for?"

I shrug. "He didn't say. But he also told me to get the boys, so if I have any chance of getting back by midnight, I better go now."

Mom and the Lightwoods head to the study while I go to the training room. Whenever the Herondales are here, Jonathan, Sebastian, and Jace train. I rarely join them, since I despise the arrogant golden-haired pig.

I climb the steps to the training room and open the door. Not even two seconds later, a knife whizzes past and sticks itself not even two inches from my head. I look around the room to find Jace and Jonathan rolling on the floor with laughter and Sebastian with his head in his hands, bright red.

I roll my eyes. "Get your lazy asses off the floor, Dad wants you all in his office," I say. The two boys don't hear me so I grab two knives off the wall and embed them into the floor right next to each boy. I yell this time, "Get your lazy asses off the floor, Dad wants to see you all in his office!" I send Sebastian a sympathetic glance and exit with a flourish.

Returning to the study, I find Dad, Robert, Alec, and Stephen all in a serious discussion. Max is reading a book next to his sister, who is partaking in a conversation with Maryse, Céline, and Mom. Dad gestures for me to join him.

"Clarissa, we need you to create a rune," he says.

I feel the men's gazes burning holes in me when I reply. "What for?"

"We need a rune that will close the gates to and from hell dimensions." His voice is lazy and expectant, as if he already knows that there is a rune for that. This is a huge order, one I don't think I'll be able to fill.

"When?" Maybe I'll be able to create a rune if I have enough time.

Dad arranges his face to look thoughtful. Stephen surprises me by interrupting. "Within a week would be best. Don't you agree, boys?"

Alec and Robert nod, with Dad joining in the end. "A week will do. Can you do it, Clarissa?"

"It might take a bit longer, since this is probably one of the biggest ones," I respond.

Mr. Lightwood shakes his head in understanding. "Of course, this is not an everyday rune-" He's cut off by the dramatic entrance of Jace and my brothers.

"We are here, good people! Your saviors have arrived!" Jace throws his arms up.

I roll my eyes. "I don't see Jesus anywhere," I respond snarkily. Sebastian and Jonathan chuckle while Jace glares.

"No one asked for your opinion, princess," he spits.

"It wasn't an opinion. It was a fact," I retort. Jace continues to glare and then looks abruptly away. I tilt my head to the side in confusion.

"Enough!" Dad booms. Jace's head whips to look at Valentine with his golden curls swinging around his head. Dad takes a deep breath. "There are some important things we need to talk about, so I don't need your bickering." He pointedly looks at me and Jace.

Mom goes to stand behind Dad. Isabelle moves to her brother's chair while Max melts into the shadows. Maryse and Céline take their places while I join my brothers. Jace goes to his father.

This how it always looks when we meet with the Lightwoods and Herondales. However, the ambiance is usually less tense than it is now. The parents are glancing at their children nervously, which seems very suspicious.

Dad takes another breath. "As you all know, the Circle needs to continue," he begins. We all nod. "In order for that to happen, there needs to be grandchildren."

My gaze grows intense as I realize what he's saying. All the other kids look confused, even Alec. "You want us to marry each other," I say.

Dad raises an eyebrow at my directness. "I was going to soften it, but yes. We need you to marry each other."

A sick feeling settles in my stomach. My hands start to shake.

"Who with who?" Jonathan demands. He embraces me from behind, being the great big brother I know he is.

Stephen responds, "Jonathan is with Isabelle. Alec and Sebastian have other suitors. And then Jace is with Clarissa."

My knees start to give out. "I-I'm going to marry..._Jace_?" My voice is shaking.

Every kid except for Max is scowling. It's clear that no one is happy about this decision.

Isabelle shoots her father a murderous glare. "And I'm going to marry Jonathan?" Her voice is bitter.

Reluctantly, Robert nods. Isabelle shoots up from her chair and storms out. Alec goes to follow her but I stop him.

"I know what she's going through. I'll get her," I whisper. Alec looks pained but sits back down.

I trail Isabelle all through the house. She eventually shoots into a room and locks it with a rune. I use a secret creation of mine and the door swings open.

Isabelle is lying on her stomach on a bed in a guest room. Her body is being racked with sobs. Her cries are loud and pronounced.

I gently close the door. She doesn't seem to hear me, so I approach her like you would a wild cat. I sit down on the bed and she stops crying. I rub her back and whisper soothing things into her ear.

Finally, Isabelle sits up. Her eyes are bloodshot, her face is blotchy, and her makeup is smeared. In other words, she's a trainwreck.

"What do you want?" she spits.

I take my hand off her. "I just wanted to make sure that you didn't jump out of a window."

She shoots me a dirty look. "Well, now that you mention it, I might just do that."

I jump up and stop her from standing. "I'm here to help you."

Isabelle scowls. "You can't help me. You don't know what I'm going through. I'm marrying your brother. You feel partial to him. You think Jonathan is the greatest boy ever." Isabelle flops onto her back.

I shake my head violently. "I can help you. I know Jonathan, and I know that he isn't the greatest boy ever. He's like Jace: Satan's true advocate. I'm here to help you survive."

Isabelle raises an eyebrow. "Liar."

I mirror her. "Why would I lie? You and I are going through the same thing, except with different people. You get Jonathan and I get Jace. We both lose."

"Jace is not annoying. Ok, he is. But you get used to it."

"Yeah, and that's what Jonathan's like." I pause and take a deep breath. "Look, Isabelle, we can help each other. You know Jace, I know Jonathan. We can help each other survive, only if you listen to me." I sit down next to her and look her in the eye.

Isabelle pauses for a long time and then sighs. "I guess I need all the help I can get right now."

"And you can get advice just from watching the two. Sebastian's the exact opposite of Jonathan: sweet, gentle, defensive. Seb will help you, also. He knows exactly how Jonathan is: rude, mostly gruff, and offensive. And you should also know that when a person hurts somebody Jon loves, he takes much more action than Sebastian. If you get Jonathan to love you, your life will be great."

Isabelle's lip quivered. "What if I don't love him back?"

I smile and shake my head. "Once you get through the tough exterior, Jon's as sweet as can be. The only difference between the twins is their mental wall levels. Jon's walls are tough and mostly unbreakable. Seb's basically aren't even existent. So if you eventually get through Jon's walls, you'll find that you can't stop loving him."

Isabelle sat up, her eyes a little less wet. "Can we talk about this in your room? I don't feel safe here."

I hesitate. My room is my private area. Seb and Jon are rarely let in there. The only person that goes in on a daily basis is my mother.

I stand up and hold out my hand. "I have a better place."

**Author's Note:**

**I hope you guys like the story! Comment if you want to or just move on because you don't care!**

**-AgentLadd**


	2. Chapter 2: This Is Incredible

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Mortal Instruments nor any of the characters besides my own made up ones! All rights go to Cassandra Clare, her publishers, and the other rightful owners!**

**Chapter 2: Izzy's POV**

I follow Clarissa through the winding halls of Morgenstern manor. I know we passed her room a while ago; it had a big "C" on it. It looked artistic, so it seemed like it was drawn by Clarissa herself or her mom.

We start slowing down as we reached the end of the hall. Clarissa pulls out a key and inserts it into the keyhole of the end room. She opens the door and lets me in. I gasp.

It looks like a greenhouse, with wide, glass windows letting in light from every corner of the room. But there are no plants, only easels and tables and charts of different colors. Storage bins and cabinets are pushed against the wall connected to the manor.

The easels have beautiful paintings on them. There's one of a seraph blade, then one of a shortsword with the Morgenstern emblem on its hilt. Three easels contain drawings of three manors. I recognized them all. The first was the manor I was in right now, the Morgenstern one. The second was Herondale manor, the gold stone captured perfectly. Last was the Lightwood manor. It was elegant and graceful, the gray stones eloquently aligned and the windows culturisticly designed.

I reached out to touch one but pulled my hand back abruptly. I glanced back at Clarissa, who was watching me.

She laughed. "I painted those a couple of months ago. You can touch them."

My fingertips started to graze the picture of the Lightwood manor. It was almost as if I was there, standing right in front of it.

I tried to think of something to say. "I-uh-oh-these-you…"

Clarissa, who had gone to lock the door, was looking over with amusement. "Are you trying to tell me that they are good?"

I nod vigorously. "These are incredible."

Clarissa walks back over and joins me. "Close your eyes, Isabelle."

I close my eyes and mutter, "You can call me Izzy."

Clarissa giggles. "Ok, _Izzy_, turn around." Clarissa's warm hands help me rotate. She guides me to some place that I can't see. Obviously. "Open them."

I open my eyes and gape. On a huge canvas, a canvas taller than me, was a picture of my entire family. It was enormous, almost as big as the double doors we just entered through.

Max was in front, his glasses askew, his hair mussed, gray eyes alight, and a book held in the crook of his elbow. Holding his shoulders was Dad, his broad shoulders prominent in his black suit. The dark clothing made his blue eyes pop. His black hair was flawlessly styled and his hands were strong. He had a dominant expression on his face.

On Dad's right was Alec. Looking as humble as always, his suit was slightly rumpled along with his hair. The dark blue eyes I had grown up with stared back at me with the wisdom of an eighty-year-old that I knew Alec possessed. He had his arm slung around Dad, the other hand holding one of Max's.

On Dad's left was Mom. She was wearing black as well, a cocktail dress that reached her knees. It was simple, clinging to her every curve. Her black hair was hung in an ornate yet tight bun and her eyes seemed to be piercing your soul.

Mom was hugging a girl, my age, close to her. This girl was dignified and beautiful yet dangerous at the same time. Her luscious black hair fell to her waist and her brown eyes were mysterious. A gold bracelet was on one of her wrists. It reminds me of my own whip. The girl had heels on, making her as tall as her mother. I wonder who this girl is.

I stare at Clarissa, who is watching my reaction. "Who is the girl?" I ask.

Clarissa looks confused. "That's you. Or, at least that's what I expect."

I shake my head. "I don't look like that."

Clarissa takes my arm and leads me to a nearby mirror. I cry out in horror.

"Look," Clarissa demands as she heads over to a sink. She grabs a rag and soaks it, coming back over. She starts to wipe my face with cool water, calming the red spots and fixing my red-rimmed eyes. Her hands are incredibly gentle.

When she's done, it looks as if I hadn't been crying at all. Of course, there's still some makeup left, but Clarissa says we can fix that later.

As I look in the mirror, my eyes flick between it and the picture. The girls look exactly the same.

"How did you do that?" I ask.

Clarissa shrugs. "An artist has an eye for beautiful and majestic things. When your father commissioned me to paint this, I was actually excited. Your family, Izzy, couldn't be any grander than they already are. I had a hard time trying to capture that. I had to use my resources."

"If you made my family look this good, I'd like to see a picture of the Herondale family."

Clarissa moves around and picks up a sketch. She looks over the page at me. "You know that picture when you first walk into the Herondale manor? The one to the left?"

My mouth falls. "You painted that?"

Clarissa nods. "I had to use gold flakes to get that family right."

Somebody bangs on the door. "Clary!"

"What?" Clarissa rolls her eyes and goes to stand right next to the door.

"You and Isabelle need to come to the study right now!" I can't discern who the voice comes from, but I'm guessing it's Jonathan.

"We'll be there in a minute!"

Footsteps stomp off. Clarissa shakes her head. "Brothers," she mutters.

She pulls a key out of her pocket and opens the door. I exit, with Clarissa right behind. She locks the door and we head back to the study.

I learn some interesting things about Clarissa, or "Clary", along the way.

We're laughing when we enter the study. Everybody looks at us quizzically. We stop, but a few stray giggles erupt from both of us.

Valentine looks at us both with cold, dark eyes. "To confirm your marriage, we must exchange family rings. Jonathan, you first."

I gasp. "Isn't it too soon?"

Valentine shakes his head. "We do not know how much longer our lives will be. This will be a faster courtship than most. Get on with it, Jonathan."

Purposely reluctant, all the while glaring at his father, Jonathan gets up. A band of dark silver glistens in his palm. It's stark against his pale skin.

He looms over me and takes my outstretched hand. He covertly mouths, "I'm sorry." Alec's glare burns into both of us. Sliding the ring onto my finger, he kisses my knuckles, almost sending a small shiver down my back. He then retreats to where Sebastian is.

A small hand is placed on my shoulder. I look down to see Clary smiling sadly at me.

"And now Jace."

The smile is wiped of Clary's face as Jace stands up. She's tense.

Jace is like Jonathan. He also is clearly not happy about this. His mouth is set into a thin line as he approaches her. The Herondale ring shines in the pale light. He takes her small hand and slides it on, surprisingly gentle. The ring, like all other family rings, molds itself to fit Clary's finger. He brushes his lips over Clary's hand and then retreats. Clary visibly relaxes.

Valentine seems to be the only one happy about this arrangement. He's smiling widely, his black eyes wondrously warm. "The newly engaged are dismissed," he announces.

All four of us bolt out of there. "Can we go back to the room we were just in?" I ask. I feel Jonathan and Jace listen in.

Clary shrugs. "Why not. Jace, Jon, you can come too."

Jonathan raises an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"The studio."

"Yours, right? Not Mom's?" His tone is wary.

Clary violently shakes her head. "No, no, a thousand times no. We are going to mine." Both Jonathan and Clary shudder.

"What's in Jocelyn's studio?" I ask.

"Pictures of _things_. Things the three of us shouldn't have ever seen," Jonathan responds as we start walking.

"What types of things?" Jace raises his eyes suggestively.

Clary shoots him a dirty look. "The exact things going through your mind right now."

**Hey y'all,**

**I hope you like the story even though it's short and trashy.**

**-Agent Ladd**


	3. Chapter 3: Why?

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Mortal Instruments nor any of the characters besides my own made up ones! All rights go to Cassandra Clare, her publishers, and the other rightful owners!**

**Chapter 3: Jace's POV**

Jon and I follow Clary and Izzy down the hall. Jon's mentioned Clary's studio before, but I've never been. And from the way Izzy's eyes lit up when Clary agreed to go there, I thought that there's more to this studio than just art and supplies.

We are led into the west wing, the least used one. We go down a hall and Clary pulls out a key. She inserts it into the lock of a set of heavy oak double doors. She then swings them open.

Light is everywhere. It's a medium-sized room, with an entire wall devoted to weapons. Two other walls are completely open, except for some easels that are pushed up against them. The last wall is covered in cabinets and different storages, with a big painting of the Lightwood family propped up against it. There are many different granite and wood islands scattered across the room. Some are covered in paints, others have sketches, others sketchbooks, and some with other types of supplies. More easels are placed randomly throughout the room.

Izzy goes over to the big painting of her family and stares at it. She extends her hand but Clary rushes over. "I'm not finished with that yet," Clary says. Izzy retracts her hand.

Jon wanders over to another easel, one with a long blade painted on it. I recognize Jon's sword, Phaesphoros. Clary goes to an island with dozens of papers covered in weird symbols. They look like Marks, but not ones if seen. _She must've created them,_ I think.

I look around, glancing at different drawings. I land at an island with sketches. I flip through them. All the sketches are people, ranging from Jocelyn to Robert to Mom to Jon. Valentine's in there, his coldness impeccably imitated. Izzy's there, her electrum whip sparkling while in the middle of unfurling. I come across a picture of me and I almost, _almost_ gasp.

In the sketch, I have black gear on. The gear seems to outline my broad shoulders with talent beyond ordinary. The Herondale dagger is dazzling in my grip. I'm crouching, my heels off the ground. The gold in my hair glints faintly, a reflection almost making a halo.

"Admiring ourselves, are we, Mr. Herondale?" Clary asks as she passes, a mocking smile on her face.

"Who wouldn't admire me?" I smirk. She sticks her tongue out at me.

Izzy joins me at the island and picks up a picture of Max. "How do you do this, Clary?"

Clary's at the other end of the room, inspecting different colored pencils. "I don't know. It could be the angel blood, but I've just always been able to draw like that."

She walks over to an easel with the Circle insignia on it. She begins to finish it up.

Jon, Izzy, and I watch Clary paint. It's like magic; the colors just seem to flow from the brush and into the desired shapes. In other cases, the bright and dark colors would've clashed. But here, they work together seamlessly. Everyone is in a trance; even Clary, herself. When she's finished, the painting looks too good for the Louvre.

Clary's breathing hard, almost like she was running. I stare at her in wonder. I've always known Clary to be easily annoyed, short-tempered, sarcastic, and rude. But this is a whole other side of her, one where she's at peace, one where she could face Lucifer himself and she would only smile. She's one of those artists that can paint her feelings perfectly.

"Clary…" Izzy starts but trails off. She too is mesmerized.

Clary whips around, a slight smile on her face. "Yes?"

"That's so good," Izzy finishes.

Clary giggles, a soft bell sound that reverberates in my bones. "Thanks."

A hard thud lands against the door. Jon and Clary laugh. Izzy and I send them weird looks.

"That's Seb's way of telling us something big has happened or we're needed," Jon explains. Clary goes over and opens the door. Seb's standing on the other side, his eyes impossibly dark with despair.

He skirts around Clary, who's watching with worry as she closes the door, and heads to his twin. He crashes into Jon with so much force that I'm surprised Jon didn't topple over.

Silently, the twins seem to have a conversation as they stare into each other's eyes, black meeting green. Izzy, Clary, and I wait in a tense silence.

Jon beckons Clary over abruptly and whispers something in her ear while Sebastian leans against one of the islands heavily.

Clary darts out of the studio. Jon walks over to me. "Go with her, she might need help with this," he says.

I sprint after Clary, putting in effort to catch her. She's small but as fast as a bullet. I almost crash into her when she stops abruptly in front of the basement door. She yanks it open and flies down the stairs.

The basement is dank and dim, with dust lining all of the knick-knacks cluttering the enormous space.

Clary shoots through the piles of stuff, nimbly jumping over things she can't dart around. She comes upon a door, which seems like it's freshly painted, bright in its dirty surroundings.

Slamming the door open, she enters. The room is filled with armor, ranging from light patrol gear to heavy fight gear to dusty metal from the 1600s. Clary rushes over to a table pushed against the farthest wall, where a black glove is placed inside a glass dome. It looks ancient and heavy but after Clary places a rune on the glass and it fades, she picks it up like a feather. A delicate feather, to add.

"I'm going to hand this to you, Jace," she says. "But if you damage this in any way, both you and I will be brutally tortured by my father and brothers. Got it?"

"What is it?" I hold both of my hands out and she carefully places it in them.

"One of the first articles of gear ever crafted. My father started this collection when he was younger and Sebastian is adding to it. Jonathan doesn't really do anything with it, but you know how he is with Seb. If that glove - well, if anything in this room were to be damaged - my dad would be angry and Seb would really...almost kind of depressed. Then, because Seb is sad, Jon would get angry." Clary goes over to another table and puts another rune on another dome. This one contains a knife sheath that looks like it belonged to one of the pharaohs, it was that old. She picks it up after shoving her stele back into her pocket. She jerks her head toward the door. "Let's go."

I gently shoulder the door open and close it. We slowly make our way through the over-crowded basement toward the stairs. An impatient Izzy is waiting at the top.

"What were you two doing down there? Having pre-marriage sex?" she demands as we ascend the steps.

Clary laughs. "Izzy, this isn't Heaven, you know that right? Jace isn't dead yet."

I roll my eyes. "Please, little girl. I'm not dead, but you are. After all, a man as gorgeous as your truly only belongs in Heaven, doesn't he?"

She snorts. "No, you belong in Hell with all those demons. I'm pretty sure that you need demon pox to even look the least bit attractive."

Izzy laughs. "Jace, don't even try to respond to that. Not even you can counter that roast."

We reach the top of the stairs and Iz closes the door behind us. "Come on. Alec joined us and he didn't look very happy either."

_What do you expect? He's gay and he's getting married off to a woman. Is he supposed to be all happy like a kid in a candy store? _I think bitterly.

Our little trio starts off toward Clary's studio. Izzy is speeding ahead, clearly unaware of the delicacy of the items in our hands. Every once in a while, she'll look back and chastise us about being so slow.

We reach the doors and for once in her life, Izzy walks in without a peep. But I can see why - the scene laid out before us is heart-breaking. Seb is clinging to Jon, his face buried into the crook of his brother's neck. Alec is staring coldly up at the identical image of his father's face in the life-size picture against the wall. Max, I guess, is still in the office.

Slowly, Clary places the knife sheath on a clear spot on one of the islands. I place the glove right next to it. "Seb?" she calls out.

Sebastian turns from his twin and he looks horrible. His knuckles are bruised and red and raw, his eyes are red and puffy, and his cheeks streaked with tears. But he lights up when he sees the sheath and the glove. Clary didn't explain to me what these objects meant to him, but clearly they mean a lot.

Jon pulls the two of us aside as Izzy goes to her brother. He brings us to the opposite side of the room from Seb. "Seb's engaged to Zara Dearborn," he says.

Clary gets really angry. I, frankly, have no clue who "Zara Dearborn" is, and I don't care. Though, from the look on my fiancée's face, she isn't nice.

"That bitch?" Clary sounds so mad, it's scary. I can tell that her tone terrifies Jon a little too by the way his hands inch up a little.

"Uh, yeah." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "And she's arriving tomorrow to meet him again."

Clary looks like she's ready to scream. She turns to storm out but Jon catches her shoulder. "Kendra Whitelaw's coming, too, though. With Xavier. And Aline Penhallow, Alec's betrothed, is accompanying the group," he reports.

I know who the last three are though. Kendra and Xavier are my distant cousins and Aline is the Consul's daughter. The Circle, now the leading Shadowhunter-law-enforcement (we monitor Shadowhunter activities), is very respected. So we are constantly interacting with the Consul and Inquisitor, reporting daily Shadowhunter violations and actions. Imogen Herondale, my grandmother and my cousins' great-aunt, is the Inquisitor. Jia Penhallow, Aline's mom, is the Consul.

Clary visibly relaxes. "Seems like Aline and Alec made out like bandits on this deal, unlike the rest of us."

Jon shakes his head. "Izzy, Jace, you, and I don't have it nearly as bad as Seb, however. You have to admit that."

Clary shrugs. "Yeah, yeah. Did Kendra and Xavier get married off?"

"No. They were both already engaged by the time Dad made this decision, though I think he would've paired them up anyways."

"Are they coming with their partners?"

"Yeah. At least, I think so," Jon responds.

Clary releases a deep breath. She steps back. "I'm going to the training room. Jon, don't follow me. Stay with Seb." Jon nods as Clary dashes out the door.

I go to follow her but he stops me. "Alec needs you. Don't go. She needs time to cool off."

"Ok."


	4. Chapter 4: I Can See Why

**Chapter 4: Clary's POV**

Wind whirls through the library, my Portal runes lighting up. A blue spark lights, and soon a doorway appears. The force of the wind sends me crashing into Jace's arms since he's standing right behind me. They're warm and strong. We smirk at each other and he keeps me in his arms as a show for our visitor.

I smile internally. Zara has always had the biggest crush on Jace and now I get to rub the fact that she can't ever have him in her stuck-up, lying face. And even if Jace and I weren't engaged, he still wouldn't approach her after what we told him about Zara last night.

A figure lands, perfectly if I must add, both feet level on the ground. Her white-blonde hair doesn't waver in its braided bun and her cold grey eyes slowly warm as they rake the group. She's tall and slender, taller than Izzy, and extremely athletic. The figure is Kendra Whitelaw.

She quickly steps out of the way as another body slams into the ground with the same grace. Dark brown hair spikes up in weird but hot ways as the wind toys with it. His dark green eyes don't relax until they land on Kendra. His tan muscles are as prominent as Jace's, albeit being a little taller. This is Kendra's betrothed, Adrian Rosales.

Adrian and Kendra move to stand next to each other and out of the way. Dad inches toward them, trying to get closer to greet them but the wind is unusually strong.

More feet land. This time, it's a girl, basically a clone of Adrian but younger. Her hair is wavy and goes down to her mid-back, not unlike her _parabatai's_, Kendra. She's shorter than the other two, maybe reaching the other girl's chin. Kendra pulls Lyra Rosales out of the way as the other Whitelaw comes through.

Xavier Whitelaw is beyond intimidating if you ask me. He's 6'4" and all muscle, with wavy white-blonde hair that falls in into his eyes like Adrian's. His gray eyes are almost colder than his sister's. His pale skin looks eerily luminous in the blue light. He skirts out of the way and stands next to his _parabatai_, Adrian, and behind his betrothed, Lyra.

Next is Aline. Her black hair is waving out of its messy braid, adding a playful light to her brown eyes. Her lightly tanned skin is different from the pale starkness of the Whitelaw's and the dark shadows of the Rosales's. She's mid-height and slender. Aline stumbles a bit but Alec steps forward and catches her.

Last and certainly least, is Zara. Unfortunately, she enters through with almost as much grace as Kendra, though no one can replicate the elegance Kendra has. Zara's blonde-brown hair is immaculate as always in its tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her hazel eyes are malicious and plotting as they scan the group. When they land on Jace, a predatorial want overtakes any and all other emotions and makes the man holding me shiver a little until they land on me, in Jace's arms. They darken with hate and she turns abruptly away. Her back is ramrod straight as she steps out of the Portal's area of destruction. I temporarily leave Jace's arms to shut the gateway down. When it's closed, I return to Jace.

Dad steps forward. "Welcome, Ms. Dearborn, Ms. Penhallow, to Morgenstern Manor. I take it that this is your first time here?"

Zara looks around criticizingly. "Yes, it is. Though I have a feeling I wasn't missing anything." Her tone is snarky and superior.

Dad's eyes, as well as the rest of my family's, eyes darken. I can tell that her stay won't be very pleasant.

Aline rushes in. "What Zara means to say is that so far, we are both very impressed. This library is beautiful, Mr. Morgenstern."

He smiles warmly at the Consul's daughter. "Thank you, Aline." He sweeps his arms in a wide arc. "My wife, Jocelyn, and I will lead you on a tour of the manor along with Sebastian, my son, and Alexander, Robert's son. Come along." Seb offers his arm to Zara, who reluctantly takes it. Aline takes Alec's arm, with her being a bit more welcoming. The group leaves the room and the atmosphere immediately lightens. I step away from Jace, his heat leaving my body a tiny bit cold.

"I can see why you called Zara a bitch," Jace mutters.

I shoot a sympathetic glance toward the library doors. "I just feel so bad for Seb. She doesn't deserve him. But Dad just notices this and I think it's too late to change anything."

He shrugs. "Valentine _is _the head of the Circle. He can do anything, can't he?"

"I don't know. Maybe he can, maybe he can't."

We both look toward the rest of the group gathered in the room. The parents are drifting towards the doors, chatting easily, while the children make introductions.

I lead Jace over to where Jon and Izzy are talking with the four newcomers.

"Clary!" Lyra shrieks. She runs over to me and throws her arms around my neck.

I hug her back, though not as enthusiastically. "Hey, Lyra."

She pulls away and places her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes take me in as they move up and down. "Oh, you've changed so much!"

I roll my eyes. "It's been two months, Lyra. Of course, can't you see those gray hairs and all those wrinkles?"

Lyra scowls. "Don't be that way, Clare. I get enough of the sarcastic shit from Kendra already."

I bat my eyelashes innocently. "It's all part of the game, sweetheart."

Lyra then looks at Jace. "Are you Jace Herondale?"

"I am _the _Jace Herondale," he replies.

"Otherwise known as 'Goldilocks'," I add.

"Yeah, and she's Red. We all have nicknames, just some of us have better ones than others."

Lyra laughs. "So, who would you say has the better nickname? Goldilocks is priceless if I might add."

"No, it isn't. It's-" Jace is cut off by Jon walking over with Xavier and Izzy. He sneaks up behind Lyra and picks her up. He slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Lyra shrieks and laughs at the same time. He smirks and runs toward the door.

"Bet ya' can't catch me, Xav!" He yells before bolting out and into the hallway.

Xavier chuckles. He goes running after the two but his sister beats him to it. Kendra speeds past, her golden hair falling out of its bun as she pulls it down. "Come on, y'all! Jon isn't slow and you know it," she says before following my brother.

Xavier and Adrian go next. Izzy giggles as they leave. "They seem like they're so much fun."

I nod vigorously. "They are, as long as you don't stay behind. Let's go." I sprint out, not pausing to look but already knowing Iz and Jace are right on my tail.

We catch up to Xavier and Adrian in no time. They are about 10 feet behind Kendra, who seems to know exactly where Jon and Lyra are. We run for ages, it seems. Finally, Kendra bursts onto a terrace that overlooks the massive garden. Being the reckless people we all are, when we see the two, we vault right over the side and into the bushes below.

I end up landing on Adrian by accident. I jump off him and giggle, causing him to chuckle. The other four join us and we go back to sprinting after Jon and his stowaway.

I lead the way, being the smallest and nimblest out of the group of abnormally tall people. As we near the walls of the garden, I get an inkling of an idea as to where we are going. There's an old tree right outside the boundaries of the manor that has a doorway to a bunker this way. Seb, Jon, and I found it when we were younger and used to play in it all the time. Then training overtook most of our time and we stopped.

My suspicions are confirmed when Jon jumps over the low garden fence. I flip over with the rest following soon.

I smile deviously when I realize Jon forgot the shortcut we found. "We're taking a shortcut," I yell.

"Do you know where we're going?" Izzy asks.

"You know I do." A branch comes up and I speak again. "Swing off this branch and land on a humongous log. From there, just swing from vines. Don't worry, Jon did this with, like, 5 pounds of food on his back. The vines will hold."

The branch comes into reach. I jump and swing off, landing with practiced grace on the fallen tree. The closest vine is within easy reach, so with a short leap, I latch onto the long green rope and start to act like a female Tarzan. Behind me, Xavier starts yodeling like an ape as he starts to swing.

"The last vine is coming up. It's just a field after that, but there are a couple of trees. Jon's heading for the biggest one although he's probably about five minutes behind us," I yell.

A chorus of "Ok" resounds from behind me. I leave the forest behind, arcing gracefully in the air while doing so. I dash across the field to the giant tree, the metal door already visible. The hinges look unused, a clear sign that Jon has yet to arrive.

I sketch a speedy Soundless rune onto my arm. My feet make no noise as they pound the waving grass.

I yank open the door and swing in, using the top of the door as a temper. I land on the dirt floor of the deceivingly large underground room, moving out of the way quickly so the others could enter.

Izzy launches herself in first. She lands hard, though she doesn't move an inch as her two feet slam evenly. She takes a step forward and looks around. "Wow."

I pull her out of the way as Jace slams into the space she was just in. He glances around a bit before sliding out of the way and going to the wall of weapons running along the north barrier. Iz stands next to me as the others enter in the same style as the people before them.

After the last person comes through, I climb up the hard-packed dirt stairs to shut the door. Then I head over to a telescope sort of thing that allows you to see the ground surrounding the bunker. I spot Jon's feet just leaving the worn path that he took.

"Get your asses out of sight!" I yell. Everyone dives into a spot just as Jon comes in.

He comes down the stairs, Lyra staring around at everything with a confused expression. He sets her down near where Kendra supposedly dived. Jon heads to the weapons wall, grinning triumphantly as he goes along. "They'll never find us here."

Lyra puts her hand on one of the walls. "What is this place?"

"An old demon raid bunker that Seb, Clare, and I found about a decade ago. It's been a while since we've last been here, so you, Lyra, are stuck with me for a long time."

A crash echoes. Both Jon and Lyra jump. A portion of the ancient weapons wall had fallen exactly where Jace had dived. I smirk in the shadows.

Jon walks over to where I'm crouched. I shift over to the left just in time. His feet replace my body right after I leave that spot.

A yelp escapes Lyra as she's pulled into the dark. Jon whirls around frantically.

"Show yourself, demon," he yells. He goes into a defensive position and I decide to have some fun.

"No, stupid Nephilim," I rasp. "I'm going to have some fun."

A figure shaped like Xavier slithers across the ground. Jon stares at it with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

"What is your name?" Jon demands.

I stand up behind him. "Clary Morgenstern," I whisper into his ear.

He immediately relaxes and I feel his body rumble with laughter. "I knew it. That - I don't know what it was - looked very human. So it was either you guys or an Eidolon but they don't speak that way."

One by one, everyone emerges from the dark corners. We start heading back to the manor, chatting and laughing as one big group.

_If only Alec and Seb were here_, I think gloomily.

**Sorry, it took so long to update, guys. I had major writer's block.**


	5. Chapter 5: I Will Be!

**Chapter 5: Jace POV**

I give myself one last look in the mirror and deem my appearance suitable. Tonight, we were having a welcome dinner for Aline and Zara, though most just want to welcome Aline.

My black suit is still a little stiff since it's brand new, but I brush it off. I wink at myself and head down to Clary's room.

My stomach flips at the thought of her name. When we were little, I had a huge crush on her. But she never gave me the time of day. That's why I turned into a huge player: to try to get her attention. That plan backfired because now she hates me. But that crush never left. I think of this arranged-marriage as a blessing in disguise.

I arrive at the door with the green "C" on it and knock. A faint "come in" resounds and I open it before stepping inside.

I've never been inside Clary's room before, but I don't know if I'm really missing anything. It's no different than any other bedroom in the manor, besides a few splashes of paint on the walls and full bookcases.

Clary's in the bathroom, applying mascara. She glances at me and my heart skips a beat. She looks gorgeous.

She's wearing a long, fitted, silk, emerald-green dress that's off-the-shoulder and has a slit along her left leg. Her curls are gentle but purely red, with two strands pinned back. Clary's wearing almost no makeup, save for mascara and lip gloss. Her heels are open-toed and gold, the color matching my eyes the way here dress matches hers.

"How do I look?" she asks. Clary steps out of her bathroom and does a little twirl.

I shrug. "Not as good as I do."

She hits me on the shoulder. "Shut up."

"Roger." I extend my arm and she takes it. Even through the layers of clothing, a spark sets my body on fire from where her hands clutch my limb.

Heading down to the dining room, Clary plots on how to get Zara to lose her cool. I add in a bit here and there, but I mainly just listen to her and her musical voice.

Have I said that I have a crush on Clary yet?

"Are you ready to enter the pits of hell?" Jon and Izzy appear on right on the other side of the door as we near it. Jon's voice is light and cheery while Izzy rolls her eyes. I can already tell that this is going to be an interesting marriage.

"I got engaged at 17, Jon. I'm already there," Clary responds.

I send her a look. "You're married to me, Clare. I'm your saving angel."

"Oh, just go in already," she snarks back.

Jon pushes the door open to reveal a dimly-lit but grand room. A dark mahogany dining table takes up most of the space in the marble-walled space. Glimmering chandeliers are placed conservatively across the roof.

Valentine is already seated at the head of the table with Jocelyn at the other side. He's chatting quite animatedly with Aline, who's seated to his right. Alec is on her right, facing Sebastian, who's on the left of Zara. Jocelyn is talking to a blonde man that resembles Zara greatly, Horace Dearborn. Next to Horace is the Consul.

The man at the head of the table looks up when we answer and a broad smile stretches across his face. "Welcome, you four. Just find your spot."

I can feel Zara's stare on my back as Clary and I find our seats. We sit down, Clary next to Alec and across from Izzy, whereas I'm across Jon and next to an empty seat that is soon taken by my mother. Dad sits on her other side.

Valentine claps his hands. "Greetings, everyone. Tonight, we are welcoming the newest additions to our family, Ms. Aline Penhallow and Ms. Zara Dearborn. They are both quite honorable young ladies-"

"My daughter is more than honorable, Valentine. She is precious and valuable," Horace interrupts. Everyone's heads turn on their necks at lightning speed. Mr. Morgenstern is the third highest-ranked official in the Clave. All Shadowhunters under him call Valentine "General Morgenstern". Only close relatives and friends, immediate high-ranking officers (Robert, Dad, you know), the Inquisitor, or the Consul can call him anything different. And Horace is nowhere near any of that. In addition to the insubordinate name, Horace _interrupted _Valentine. That's a feat only Clary can pull off.

The general takes a deep breath. "Excuse me, Horace?"

"My daughter is worthy of a more extravagant title than just 'honorable'. She's a princess!" Horace, who had leaned forward as he spoke, leaned back. "You should know that, Valentine."

Beside me, Clary tries to stifle laughter. She fails miserably.

Valentine, who's quite pissed off, goes to glare at his daughter but his gaze softens as he realizes who it is. "Clarissa," he warns.

Clary doesn't stop. "I'm sorry, Father. It's just hilarious to see how rude Horace is being."

The man spoken of turns indignant. "You are rude too. How can I not be?"

The Consul interjects. "She's his _daughter_. Both Clarissa and Jonathan are exceptions to being rude. They don't address him as 'General Morgenstern', because Valentine is their father. They also interrupt him because they are children. You, Horace, are older and not related to the general in any way."

"But I will be!"

"Even then, you will address me as 'General Morgenstern'," Valentine booms.

Horace shoots out of his chair. "I've had enough of this. I really did expect more, Valentine." The clueless animal stalks out of the dining room. A few minutes later, he returns with a frazzled expression. "Could someone point me to the direction of the exit?"

Valentine gestures to Clary. "My daughter will draw up a Portal for you in the library."

Clary gets up, quite reluctantly, and leads Horace out of the dining room. Zara stands up and goes to follow the two. When she leaves, the tension in the room vanishes.

"Where are the Whitelaws and the Rosales?" the Consul asks after everyone finishes their rants on Horace (for some, Zara too).

"They weren't here just for a visit. I sent them out on a mission but should return soon. There were some odd lycanthrope disappearances as well as Fair Folk mysteries that needed investigation," Valentine responds.

Eventually, Clary and Zara return. The dinner passes somewhat smoothly and when the night is over, a bunch of us guys are walking back to our rooms. The ladies had gone off to the library with Jocelyn for some sort of talk.

"I bet Horace will be an awesome father-in-law," Jon says.

"No sarcasm, please," an exhausted Seb replies. He looks so worn out. A wave of sympathy crashes down on me like a wave.

"Ok, ok. I won't."

An ear-splitting crash echoes from the direction of the library. Without a second's hesitation, every single guy in our group - Jon, Seb, Alec, and me - are dashing for the site.

Yelling sounds from the room. Our fathers - I have no clue when Robert got here - arrive exactly when we do and they go in first. Inside, Clary and Jocelyn are bent over a body while Iz and Aline are bent over another body. Zara is sitting in a chair, filing her nails.

"What happened?" Robert demands. Valentine and Dad were walking toward Adrian and Xavier, who had just Portaled back. As our bunch of boys drew closer, we recognized the bodies as Kendra and Lyra. Both were soaked in blood.

"We don't know," Jocelyn answers. "The girls and I were talking when the bodies thumped onto the floor. Catarina Loss poked her head in and told us that there was a Centurion incident that the girls picked up on the way back from Faerie. She said that it was intense."

A moan escapes from Lyra. Clary's stele just finished a rune on her shoulder. The room goes still. Well, except for Zara, who looks totally unimpressed as she moves onto the other hand.

"Lyra?" Adrian's voice is soft and clear. He walks forward, toward his sister.

Lyra suddenly bolts up and winces before laying back down just as quickly. "Where's Kendra?" she asks urgently.

"Right here," Aline replies. She and Izzy had leaned back to give Lyra a better view of her _parabatai_.

The Rosales girl darts over quite quickly for someone who had just woken up from being unconscious. She whips out a stele and traces a deliberate _iratze_ on Kendra's upper arm. It shines brightly and cuts that hadn't been healed before zip up.

The whole room exhales in relief as Kendra starts to wake up. "Lyra?" she calls out.

"I'm here." Lyra clasps Kendra's hand.

Zara scoffs. "_Parabatai _aren't allowed to be in love, you know," she says snarkily.

"How are they 'in love,'?" Clary stands up, her expression making her seem ten times taller. She glares at Zara with such a defensive ferocity, I almost cower. And Jace Herondale doesn't cower.

"All the mushy-gushy stuff like, 'Lyra?' and, 'Where's Kendra?' Come on, you two aren't lovers."

"Yeah, not like you and yourself are. Get over yourself, Zara. You're not the Alpha here. We don't care if you're a Centurion or that you are a Dearborn."

"I have a fact that does make myself the Alpha. Jace is _mine_," she yells. Her right index finger is pointed at her chest. "Not yours. _Mine_."

I step in. "Ms. Dearborn, please stop this nonsense. I am not yours, nor am I Clary's. I belong to myself. And I do not make someone 'the Alpha'."

"Then why was she in your arms this morning?"

"Zara, enough." My dad's voice is stern, to the point where not even Zara would disobey if she wanted to live. "You are engaged to Sebastian, not to my son. Leave it be."

"Lyra and Kendra are acting this way because of their bond. Neither of them would rest easily if the other wasn't there," Robert adds. "You cannot comment on something you have never experienced."

"Clary doesn't have a _parabatai_ either!" she argues.

"Clary does, in fact, have a _parabatai_," Jocelyn cuts in. "Simon Lovelace, one of her childhood friends, is it."

"Then where is he?"

"He had a family emergency. His father died recently and he was pulled away without warning. So, Clary can defend Kendra and Lyra."

"You, Ms. Dearborn, need to tone it down. Just because life isn't going your way means that you can act as obnoxiously and rudely as you do," Mom chastises.

Zara storms out. Jon throws up his hands. "Dad, can't you call the engagement off?"

"I could and I certainly am thinking about it. As a Centurion, she should act better. This is ridiculous." Valentine sighs. "Kendra, Lyra, I need you two in my office when you're able. Xavier, Adrian, follow me."

The two boys, Valentine, Robert, and Dad leave. The others sit around the fire while Kendra and Lyra adjust.

"When's the wedding, Seb?" Kendra asks gently. She looks concerned and regretful in the dim light.

Seb sighs. "It's scheduled a couple of days after Jon and Isabelle's. So probably in two weeks."

Jocelyn places a hand reassuringly on her son's shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, Clary's first."

"Mother!" Clary scolds. "Seb, I really hope that doesn't make you feel better. This whole thing is hell."

I scoff. "Please, little girl, being married to me is heaven. Now, on the other hand, being married to you...well, I might see the Devil here and there."

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up, Goldilocks."

"Whatever you say, Red."

I can feel Alec's smirk. "Already arguing like a married couple," my _parabatai _comments.

"_Alec_!"

**Sorry, it took so long. I've been really busy lately. Enjoy!**


	6. Chapter 6: She is a Direct Descendant

**Hey guys,**

**I just wanted to clarify for this upcoming chapter that this story is based on the books, not the TV show. I've also crafted something that may be a bit incorrect according to ****_A History of Noble Shadowhunters and Denizens of the Downworld_****. Please excuse my overactive imagination, for it has gotten me in trouble on so many different occasions.**

**Chapter 6: Clary**

Simon is coming back today and I'm pumped. I really wanted to go with him to his father's funeral but my dad had insisted that I stay back because of "important Circle business". Though, as much as I love the Circle, I could've missed the last big meeting we had.

I'm leaning against the stone of the foyer when he comes in. The door opens and the tall and slightly broad figure blocks the doorway. I bounce off and throw myself on him.

"Simon!" I squeal.

He laughs, surprising for someone who just came from a funeral. "Hey, Clare."

I pull back, anxiously scanning his face. He looks ok but that isn't enough for me. I need answers. "How are you?"

Simon shrugs. "It's part of our everyday life. My family just happened to fall victim this one time." He sounds nonchalant but there's a secret undertone of deep sadness that only I can hear. It breaks my heart to see him like this, see him in a way that I alone can see. "Was George there?"

George Lovelace is his cousin/second best friend. The three of us used to train a lot when we were younger and I have to say, I liked him. He was funny and easy to talk to. And not to mention, he was _very _cute.

Simon nods. "Yeah. He helped but I wish you were there. I needed you, Clary."

I pull him back into another hug. "I wish I was there too. I was so worried."

The sound of my mother's footsteps echoes through the entry hall. The two of us separate as Mom approaches. Her arms are open and she looks so apologetic. I'm happy she understands.

"Simon!" My mom throws her arms around my _parabatai_, who gratefully melts into her embrace. I've always loved their relationship. He's as close to Mom as I am to her and we're pretty close. There's also been a couple of slip-ups where he's called her "Mom" too. Those times are hilarious.

"Hey, Mrs. Morgenstern."

Mom steps back with a playfully stern expression. "How many times have I told you to call me 'Jocelyn'?"

"Lots."

"And how do you say it correctly?"

"Hey, Jocelyn."

They have this conversation EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

My mom laughs. "There you go." Finally, after a thousand years of waiting, I'm included back into the chat. "How about you two go up to Clary's studio? Catch up a bit?"

I raise an eyebrow. Recently, my brothers, the two Lightwoods, Jace, and Aline have been visiting my studio unannounced. I actually don't care as long as they don't break anything but I know that Simon needs to talk alone right now.

"Where are the others?"

Simon turns confused. "'The others'?" he echoes.

I wave him off. "I'll explain later."

"The boys are in the weapons room and the girls are in the library. I don't know where Zara is, though I hope your father is talking with her. I told him that he needs to call the engagement off. She's not right for a spot as high up as that marriage would give her."

I nod vigorously. "Finally, someone understands!"

At some point in our little exchange, Simon stopped trying to understand. I notice him fiddling with his bracelets and hurry to depart. Mom leaves before Si and I lug his bags up to his room. It's right next to mine and if anything, more decorated. After all, he does kind of live here.

"To the studio!" I pump my fist in the air and march out dramatically. Si chuckles before following behind me.

We both visibly relax when we're in the greenhouse-like space. It was a greenhouse before Dad allowed me to transform it. I had never been more thankful than that moment in my life. This room is my favorite.

"Tell me everything I've missed," Si orders as soon as the doors are locked.

"You don't miss a beat, do you?" I joke. But he gives me a look and I sigh. "Fine, fine. So, this whole 'important Circle business' was a huge shithole. My dad needs grandchildren, right? He wants to make sure that the Circle doesn't fall into the wrong hands." Si nods and I proceed, "So he married a ton of us off. Me, Jon, Seb, Isabelle and Alec Lightwood, Aline Penhallow, even Jace Herondale."

"Who are you engaged to?" His voice is hesitant yet comforting, exactly what I need.

"Take a guess."

He cringes. "Jace Herondale?"

"The one and only golden-haired pain in the ass." I sigh. "Please help me."

"I would if I could but there's no way in hell that I'm standing up to your dad. No way in hell."

Someone bangs on the door quite forcefully, interrupting our little talk. "Clary, open up!" It's Izzy.

"Sorry, Si. If I don't answer Isabelle then I have a death sentence."

"And we all know that I would not be happy with that."

I open the door and Izzy storms in. She looks incredibly pissed. Aline is on her tail, looking equally as angry.

"That bitch!" Izzy screeches. Si, who was inspecting some sketches on a table he had been previously leaning on, glances up. He freezes, just staring at Izzy as she paces back and forth like she's the first woman to ever enter his life.

I mentally make a note to interrogate Si about that. Then I look at Aline for answers. The Consul's daughter walks over, making sure to skirt Izzy very carefully.

"What's her deal? What happened?" I demand.

Aline bites her lip. "We're going out on missions tomorrow with some Circle officers and she's going with Zara, Seb, and Jon."

I inhale sharply. "That's gotta suck."

"And she got even angrier when she found out that the other group was you, me, Alec, Jace, and your _parabatai_." She casts a look in Si's direction. "Izzy got intensely jealous."

"Can't blame her. Zara's probably going to try and save the day while getting herself killed." I shrug. "But that isn't my problem."

"Something else happened too, though."

I quirk an eyebrow. "And?"

"Do you know Alec's homosexual?" Aline looks extremely uncomfortable with this subject and that sparks something in my brain.

I nod. "We all know."

"Zara made a very…derogatory comment on it and that caused Alec to bolt."

"Where's that bitch?" I snarl. I don't know Alec very well but he takes everything life gives to him with some sort of grace. No one like him deserves to have their bravery handed back to them in the face of an insult.

"Left like it was nobody's business. Probably up in her room, writing letters to her lover." Aline returns to watching Izzy. "Jace ran out after Alec and your brothers went to storm your General Morgenstern's study."

"Sounds like them." We continue to observe Izzy. After about 15 minutes, she slows down. Izzy looks around, tensing slightly when she notices Simon.

"Who are you?" she spits though I can tell she's just like that from the heat of the moment.

My _parabatai _takes it with grace. He nods to her. "Simon Lovelace, Clary's _parabatai_. Nice to meet you."

She relaxes slightly. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood. You as well."

Simon leans off the table and stretches, pulling his shirt up. Izzy looks down and I see a faint blush crawl up her neck. _Someone's gotta crush! _I mentally sing.

"I'm heading to the kitchen," he announces. "Anyone want anything?"

When we all shake our heads, he leaves. The door shuts softly behind him.

Izzy whirls on me. "Why didn't you tell me that your _parabatai _is hot?"

I laugh. "Because that's irrelevant. Plus, I don't think of Simon that way."

Aline giggles along with me. "I know a crush when I see one."

Izzy groans. "But I can't explore it because of this stupid marriage. I really wish this wasn't happening."

"There are so many ways this whole arrangement went wrong," I admit. "No one's enjoying this."

The door to the art room opens to reveal my mother. She smiles softly. "Come on, girls. We have an errand to run."

"Where are we going?" Aline asks as we follow her. I make sure to lock the door behind me.

"The Adamant Citadel. The manor needs to be restocked and we have some custom items waiting for pickup." My mother whirls through the hallways. "Get into patrol gear. I'll be waiting at the door."

When I arrive, it's just my mother. She smiles at me. "Can you draw up a Portal outside, please?"

"Of course." I walk outside and cherish the crisp autumn air. Idris is special on so many levels, it's seasons being one of them. A huge oak, standing about 50 feet from the front door of the Morgenstern manor, is where I set up shop. Within seconds, a whirling Portal is in front of me.

"I still wonder how you do it so quickly." Aline's voice pops up behind me. A finger jabs my side and I turn my head to find the black-haired girl holding Heosphoros out to me, hilt first. "Your mom says you're going to be the one cutting your palm."

I take it and sigh. "I have the best Latin. That's her excuse. Truth is, she just really hates lava."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Izzy says. "Her hair - and yours - is the color of lava. Well, almost."

I laugh. "That's what I keep telling her!"

Mom comes up with Dad right behind her. He hands her a list and she kisses him on the cheek.

"Good luck, ladies." Dad nods his head in our direction. "I hear the Adamant Citadel is worse than the Silent City."

I shudder. "It's so creepy."

"And odd," Aline adds.

Izzy shrugs. "Never been there."

"You aren't missing anything," Mom, Aline, and I say at the same time.

"This Portal is going to stay open for long." I jump in first, landing with a little stumble on the floor of the Gard. Since I'm part of the Circle, we don't need authorization to Portal into Alicante. Boy, do I love my father.

The others land right after me. I shut the Portal and Mom starts leading us toward the Armory. Luckily, the walk is short.

She opens the gates to the Armory and walks straight in. The guards immediately look our way but go back to their patrols when they recognize us. We enter the Armory itself and Mom sighs.

"Down the stairs, we go." She leads the three of us to the stairwell, clearly not excited for this journey. The entrance to the Citadel is at one of the lowest levels of the structure, and let me tell you, this place is _tall. _Boys have it lucky in this case.

When we finally reach the bottom, bags and crates are lying all over the floor with Iron Sisters tending to them. Not one spares us a single glance.

I give my mother a weird look. "Why do we need to go the Citadel itself? Couldn't we just have picked it up here?"

Mom doesn't meet my eyes. "This is something that can't leave the Citadel unless placed in the hands of one that truly deserves it."

I have always been one to connect the dots at an alarmingly fast pace and now is no different. To collect the sort of package that my mother spoke of, you need blood to show. My mom doesn't want me to cut my palm and say the words because I have the best Latin - the object is meant to test _me._

The entrance sparkles ahead, a beacon in the dim light of the basement. I pull my patrol jacket a bit tighter since the surrounding landscape is oddly chilly. Which I find confusing since it literally is placed on a volcano. Well, sort of.

Izzy sucked in a breath she stepped through. The terrain that the Citadel is quite odd, with lush green fields bordering an ashy gray sky. Izzy stares at the ground, shocked to find that the "grass" is actually moss covering what once were lava beds.

"Weird, isn't it?" Aline asks as my mother leads us toward the Citadel, which is currently nowhere to be seen. But once you've been here, you always have a sense of direction as to where it is. It feels like a rope tugging on you in the correct direction. A hill looms up in front of us and the path's angle increases dramatically. My legs are slightly burning when we reach the top.

For the second time in five minutes, Izzy gasps. The Adamant Citadel is glistening before us, a structure made purely of blood and sweat looking like a jewel in a plain of burning, sweltering liquids. The _adamas _of the building looked like quartz, the electrum-topped towers reminding me of the demon towers of Alicante.

"Wow," Izzy comments.

"That's exactly what I said the first time I came," Aline replies. The four of us trudge down the ridge, Mom slightly ahead. We duck under the Scissors (my nickname for the gates) and Izzy shoots a terrified look in their direction. Can't blame her, though.

I have to grab Izzy's hand to prevent her from walking straight into the chasm of lava. Aline pulls her other hand back and I replace my mom as the head.

I remove Heosphoros from its hilt and slice my right-hand open. "_Ignis aurum probat_," I repeat. The blood sparks a blue light at the bottom and the drawbridge begins its descent. Returning the blade to its place on my weapons belt, I stalk toward the drawbridge, tracing a rune for dexterity onto my arm. The others replicate me and I start the dangerous trek toward the doorway. Izzy is getting increasingly amazed yet scared by this place and honestly, that's exactly how I felt the first time I came.

My breath catches - as it always does - when I enter the Citadel. Like the Mortal Sword, it holds a lethal beauty, as if willing anyone to dare challenge it.

A hidden door opens and three Iron Sisters enter the dark room. One steps forward, the thing white gown swishing around her feet.

"Speak your names, callers of the Citadel," she orders.

"I am Clarissa Morgenstern. I am accompanied by Jocelyn Morgenstern, Isabelle Lightwood, and Aline Penhallow," I announce.

"Ah," the Sister responds. "I am Sister Aglea, a Maker. What are you here for?"

Mom steps forward. "My daughter is here as heir to Calohaya."

Sister Aglea inspects me. Her gaze feels like ice water, chilling me to the bones. "How do you believe this claim to be true?"

"She is a direct descendant of Matthew Fairchild." My mother shrinks back when Sister Aglea turns to her.

"We shall see, Jocelyn, we shall see. Wait here." Sister Aglea shrinks into the shadows, a sense of unfinished business following her.

We wait in awkward silence. I want to whirl on Mom and lecture her on not giving me a heads up but this is the wrong place to do that.

Sister Aglea returns with quite the amount of Sisters flanking her tail. "Clarissa, state your full name."

"Clarissa Adele Morgenstern."

A circle flares up in the middle of the room. "Step into the circle." I do as I was told and look to her. The shape on the floor lights up, reminding me of the _parabatai _ceremony in the Silent City. "Hold your hands out." I outstretch my hands. Slowly, a pair of calloused hands place a sword in my hand, resembling a rapier.

"Repeat after me and close your eyes," another Sister says. "This will determine whether the Sword of Light is meant for your hands and whether you are the descendant of who your mother claims." She pauses. "I, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, claim the Sword of Light as my own."

I close my eyes. "I, Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, claim the Sword of Light as my own."

"By swearing this oath, I vow to carry out the duties of Calohaya…"

"By swearing this oath, I vow to carry out the duties of Calohaya…"

"-of which are endowed as well as being the protector of Dombra…"

"-of which are endowed as well as being the protector of Dombra…"

"-until the completion has found its right."

"-until the completion has found its right."

When I finish the oath, fire bursts from the weapon in my hands, traveling down into my skin and running through my veins. Bright light flashes before the back of my eyelids and I feel my feet lifting off the ground. The sword burns and then suddenly turns cold like someone flicked a switch. I fall and my eyes fly open. The rapier is in my right hand, feeling like it always has been there.

I look around wildly. Mom, Aline, and Izzy are gaping while the Iron Sisters are showing no emotion, as per usual.

Sister Algea approaches me. "Stand up, Clarissa." I scramble to get up. She holds out a sheath with a pattern of fairy wings decorating it. I take it and strap it across my back, fitting it perfectly. Sister Algea looks me in the eye. "Now that you have claimed Calohaya as your own, you shall go by the name of Clarissa Adele Fairchild and when you are married, you are to be named Fairchild-Herondale. As a direct descendant of Matthew Fairchild, you are to put that last name first." I don't even bother to wonder how they know I'm going to be married. These Sisters know everything.

The Sister that repeated the oath speaks next. "Now, we shall behold you with the Sword of Shadows." The Sister walks forward, a darker rapier in her hands. Whereas Calohaya is all gold and silver shades, this new sword is all black and grey. "Dombra and Calohaya are a pair, never to be separated unless with their rightful owners. You are to deliver it to the Silent City, where the chosen owner will prove their right." She extends Dombra, which is already in its sheath. This, too, goes across my back but goes over my left shoulder where Calohaya goes over my right. I slip this on too. Both are incredibly light, to my relief.

"These two swords were crafted for James Herondale and Matthew Fairchild. Dombra for James, Calohaya for Matthew. The Herondale line lives on. You should know who Dombra has chosen."

I nod. "Jonathan Herondale."

"Correct. Now, go. You have a journey to travel." The Sisters retreat, leaving the antechamber empty except for us.

"That was intense," Mom says.

I whirl on her. "Really? Because it was mighty normal for me. After all, getting chosen by a legendary sword made by an angel is an everyday occurrence." I resist the urge to scream. "Mother, don't think that you are out of trouble."

"Run," Izzy jokes.


	7. Chapter 7: Lifted Off My Shoulders

**Hey guys,**

**I know it's been a really long time since I've posted but I went on a week-long vacation and I couldn't edit my story. This isn't an action-packed chapter, just an informational one. The next will be better.**

**Hope you like it!**

**Chapter 7: Jace**

I want to murder Zara. I want to set her on fire and stab her over and over again. And if I see her in Hell, I'll do it again.

Alec said that it didn't bother him but he's my _parabatai_ \- I can tell when something's wrong. He's quiet (he always is, but this is different) and his shoulders are slumped more than they usually are.

Even though I argued, he insisted that we go back to the library. I only hope for Zara's life - Nah, I hope she's there. Then I can strangle her.

To my mixed relief and disappointment, she's not in the room but neither are Izzy or Aline. However, a new figure is chatting with Jon and Seb. He's tall, maybe about my height, and slim. He has glasses and he's constantly flicking his dark brown hair out of the way. I know who this is - it's Simon Lovelace.

The boys turn to us and quiet down. Alec grimaces at being in the center of attention. He's never liked it and probably never will.

The others don't make a move to start up a conversation so I have to do it.

"Where are Aline and Izzy?" I ask.

Seb shrugs. "My dad came by about half an hour ago, saying that the girls went to the Adamant Citadel. They were probably in Clary's studio beforehand."

Simon confirms it. "Yeah. Isabelle came bursting into the room and her first words were, 'That bitch!' It was quite a showing."

We chat for a few minutes until our fathers enter. General Morgenstern, Robert, and Dad walk over.

"The girls should be back soon. In the meantime, we're going to have a...meeting," Valentine says. "There are going to be some adjustments to some things."

I really hope that means that Zara is going home. If not, then I'm jumping into Lake Lyn and won't try to resurface.

"Are you ready to see Ms. Dearborn again?" Dad asks

I clench my fists at the sound of her name. "No, but I don't think I have a choice."

"Perfect answer."

The doors to the library fly open and I roll my eyes, expecting Zara. To my surprise, it's the girls. Clary stalks in first, looking pissed, and Jocelyn looks scared almost. Izzy and Aline are trying to contain their laughter.

"Dad, next time Mom brings me somewhere, make her tell me what the hell will happen!" she exclaims. A few stray giggles erupt from the two other girls behind her.

"Why?" Mr. Morgenstern looks extremely confused.

"Because the Iron Sisters set me on fire!" With that statement, Aline and Izzy's masks break, which lets laughter fill the room.

"What? How? Why?" He looks faintly angry now.

"Why don't we explain what happened at the Citadel during the meeting?" Jocelyn suggests passively but no can miss the earnest desire to escape this whole problem with her daughter alive.

"What meeting?" Clary has had enough at this point. She's ready to explode.

"Clarissa, calm down," her father orders. "It's only to make adjustments and telling stories, according to your mother." His eyes zero in on a sword that's strapped across her back. I can't see much from this point but it has a gold hilt and the _adamas _is brighter than a seraph blade's. "What is that?"

"We will answer questions later." Jocelyn sends her daughter a stern look before sitting next to her husband.

At last, we're all seated. Zara arrived a few minutes after the girls, to my luck. I really want to know what happened at the Citadel.

I'm in between Alec and Jon with Clary and the other girls - Zara's in her own chair - directly across.

"Let's start the meeting," the general booms. "Ladies, I would appreciate it if you told us your little tale about what occurred at the Adamant Citadel."

Jocelyn starts, "We went for many reasons. There were some rings needed for a mission, the weapons room needed to be restocked, the twins are growing out of their gear, I mean, we had a lot to pick up. But there was one cause, one that was very important. We entered the Citadel, which most women don't do. There, Clary claimed the sword Calohaya."

"Calohaya?" Max asks. I'm kind of glad he asked because I don't know that much and I didn't want to seem like an idiot.

Zara perks up at the mention of the sword. "Calohaya is the Sword of Light. It was gifted to Matthew Fairchild in the early 1900s from an angel. It's the bright counterpart of the Awibada pair. Calohaya is a rapier and very powerful, having five times the power of an _aegis_. It's like Cortana in the sense that it's insanely powerful and chooses its owners but unlike it, since this is a rapier and was directly from an angel."

Our parents look impressed. "Did you study it at the Scholomance?" Mom asks.

She nods. "We had to memorize all of the weapons like that." She immediately goes back to her obnoxious state. "How did _you _claim it? It hasn't been claimed since Matthew Fairchild died."

"Clarissa is a Fairchild. She had the ability to be chosen," Jocelyn answers.

"Do we have the ability?" Jon gestures between him and Seb.

"Jon has Phaesphoros, so no, and Seb could've had a chance but the Iron Sisters already confirmed that the rapier's allegiance lies in Clarissa." She pauses and turns to her daughter. "Can you take it out?"

Clary wraps a hand around the golden hilt. She pulls it out and I stare. Calohaya is one of the most beautiful swords I've ever seen. The hilt is pure gold with faerie wings engraved all over. There's only one rune, a bonding rune, on the tip of the blade. An inscription runs down the middle.

"What does it say?" Alec questions.

"'_Benedicite lux et tenebrae non differences,'_" Clary replies. "'Light and shadows have no differences.'"

Zara is gaping at the sword. "Do you have Dombra?"

Clary nods. She leaves Calohaya resting on her knees while her hands pull out another rapier, a darker one. This sword is just as beautiful.

To my immense shock, the Herondale family symbol, flying birds, circle the black hilt. The same bonding rune on Clary's sword is engraved on the end of this weapon's dark grey blade. An identical inscription runs up the blade.

"The Iron Sisters told me that I'm the carrier of Dombra until it has chosen its new owner." Clary had been previously skirting eye contact with me; she's staring me full force now. "Jace, you're needed at the Silent City so this sword can claim you."

There is no word to describe how stunned I am. "How? Why?"

"Dombra belonged to James Herondale, the _parabatai _of Matthew Fairchild. He is your great-great-grandfather, which means you have the ability to be chosen. And since you're an only child, I have a feeling you already have been."

"Where did it come from?" I breathe. This experience seems so surreal.

"James's mother was a special type of warlock," a new voice speaks up. A man - excuse me, a sparkle bomb - walks into the firelight. I would've called him a Shadowhunter because of his tall and semi-broad frame had his cat eyes not caught my attention.

"Mr. Bane," General Morgenstern greets, nodding his head. Magnus greets him in return.

So this is Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of New York. I don't know why he's here or how he's here but I'm too entranced in his tale to care.

"Tessa Herondale was half-unmarked Shadowhunter and half-Greater Demon. While in most cases, she would've been a still-born, her mother had been in the ownership of a clockwork angel necklace, which contained part of an angel's soul. This angel was sworn to protect Tessa," Magnus continues. "Tessa married William Herondale and they had two children, even though most warlocks are sterile. James was the first; he was named after Will's _parabatai_, James Carstairs, who had become a Silent Brother. Next was Lucie, who eventually married Jesse Blackthorn." He pauses. "Because of Tessa's demon heritage, James had the ability to turn into a shadow. It's hard to describe what he did but it freaked people out." Again, he stops. "A few years after James and Matthew became _parabatai_, they were caught in a freak demon incident that resulted in both of their deaths. Here, I will continue from the second-hand story I heard from Catarina Loss.

"James fell into a pit of darkness, no light anywhere. He stayed there for a good amount of time until a light did appear. This light was held by Azazel, a Prince of Hell. He was leading James's grandfather to him.

"James disliked his grandfather as much as Azazel did. His grandfather was slimy and disgusting, both physically and mentally. Eventually, Azazel sent him away and talked to James. He explained the balance between light and dark and gifted the Shadowhunter a weapon. This weapon is Dombra, the Sword of Darkness.

"As you all must be thinking, that sword is evil," Magnus proceeds. "But it's not. Much to Azazel's dismay, his magic backfired, turning Dombra to the side of good. No one - absolutely _no one_ \- knows how or what happened. There are several theories but none of them contain concrete evidence." Magnus looks around the room, his gaze lingering on Alec in particular. "At least one person in this room reminds me of them."

"Who's them?" Clary asks. Her voice is oddly fond which makes me think that they've had business before.

Magnus turns to my fiancée (I love saying that) and smiles. "I knew your ancestors quite well. The Herondales in particular. Will was quite the character and I can't say that Cecily was any different."

"Magnus, stop talking like that. You know it confuses people," Clary warns.

He laughs. "My bad, biscuit. William Herondale is Jace's great-great-great-grandfather and Cecily is his sister who married Gabriel Lightwood."

"What were James and Matthew like?" Zara blurts.

Magnus pretends to stroke his non-existent beard. "James was...very much like his mother. He was quite knowledgeable in the field of literature. Very responsible and kind until there was an, er, incident that caused him to change until he was...fixed if you will." Magnus said the whole description rather slowly, choosing his words carefully. It makes me wonder why. "Matthew was quite the socializer. Most adored him and James was one of the only exceptions. Mr. Fairchild was also very concerned for those around him, including his father Henry Branwell, who needed to be looked after quite a bit. I'm grateful to Matthew for that. Henry _was _the one who introduced me to glitter after all."

Clary laughs. "Henry needs his own statue, then. The world wouldn't be the same without him. Maybe they should place it in Peru."

Magnus snorts. "That could be arranged." Devious glints of mischief sparkle in his yellow cat eyes.

"What did they look like?" Izzy asks. I roll my eyes because she's most likely wondering if they were hot. Why, Izzy?

"James looked a lot like his father, Will. Unruly black hair, pale skin, usual male Shadowhunter physique. The only odd things were his gold eyes-"

"Like Jace's?" Alec interrupts.

Magnus shakes his head. "No. Two very different shades. James's were a bit brighter and more yellow."

"What about Matthew?" Aline leans forward eagerly, which I find odd. I don't know what interest she would have in a dead man.

"I'm barraged with questions!" the warlock exclaims before sighing. "Matthew didn't look like his parents from a stranger's point of view. He had blond hair and dark green eyes with the same physiology as James. His complexion was a little darker than his _parabatai_'s."

The general stands up and everyone's attention snaps to him with no exceptions - well, Zara doesn't seem to care but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"Thank you for those explanations, Mr. Bane, but these violations of the law you claim to have witnessed must be discussed immediately," Valentine says. "If you would please follow me." He, Magnus, Robert, and my father all walk out. I swear, the three of them never go anywhere without each other.

Alec stares at Magnus as the party leaves, still looking at the door even after it closes. I nudge him so he doesn't make a fool of himself.

"Does someone have a crush?" I tease.

He hits the back of my head but a full-on blush crawls up his neck and onto his cheeks. I smirk. Alec can't hide _anything _from me.

"Magnus totally side-tracked the meeting," Jon says from my right. We turn. "Can't get rid of Zara soon enough."

The three of us glance over at the obnoxious priss in the leather armchair. She looks as aloof as always.

I really wish I could strangle her right now.

"Jace!" my mother calls from beside Jocelyn, who's sitting on the sofa next to the girls.

"Yeah?"

"Come here!" Mom beckons and I begrudgingly oblige. I was so comfortable.

"What's up?" I ask once I'm right in front of her. Both women have to crane their necks to meet my eyes.

"We need to go to the tailor," she states calmly but I don't miss the excited twitch of her fingers.

_Why do I need to go to the tai-oh. For the wedding attire. Right. _I sigh. "When?"

"After the Silent City. That's first on our priority list," Jocely answers.

_Well, that is quite descriptive_. "And when are we going to the Silent City?"

"After your father, Robert, and Valentine are done meeting with Mr. Bane and Valentine makes his announcement." Mom squeals, clearly unable to contain her enthusiasm. "I still can't believe my son is getting married so early!"

Jocelyn answers with a squeal of her own. I roll my eyes and walk away, leaving them to their little conversation. I don't need to hear about grandkids right now. I may have a crush on Clary but that doesn't mean I've thought _that _far already.

Speaking of my fiancée, Clary is currently talking with Izzy and Aline, Calohaya and Dombra in her lap. She looks so beautiful in the dim firelight, her red hair dark but her green eyes bright. The glint of light off Calohaya colors her skin gold. The urge to just go up and kiss her is stronger than ever before.

"Staring at my sister again? Is this becoming a habit for you?" Jon slings an arm over my shoulders in a joking way but his face holds an unspoken threat. _Break her heart and I'll break you_. I don't think Jon knows of my crush. Alec does but I believe he's the only one.

I chuckle. "You act like no one stares at me. Come on. For the number of stares I receive, I should be able to stare back." I jab him in the side. "Besides, I wasn't staring. I was _studying_."

Jon scoffs. "Stop lying, Jace."

I put a hand over my heart in mock hurt. "Lying? Who do you mistake me for? Zara?"

We both laugh at that and we laugh even harder when she doesn't even look up. And I said her name loud.

Jon and I continue to tease each other until the men come back. Magnus wasn't with them, so I assume he Portaled his way out.

Valentine coughs and as per usual, everyone's attention snaps to him. I continually argue that the general is a warlock with how magical it is and no one listens.

"I still have my announcement to make," he says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zara scowl before standing up and storming out of the room. With that, I _know _her engagement is being broken off. "As of today, Sebastian and Zara are no longer engaged. Due to her past behavior, the ordeal has been taken into reconsideration and we deemed her unfit to live this lifestyle."

A cry of triumph resounds from the teenagers in the room. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders even though I know that Zara will try to get her revenge.

Sebastian looks visibly relieved and no one can blame him. Zara was a _BITCH_.

"Now, the meeting is dismissed." Valentine slips back to his office with Robert on his tale, as always. The general lives in that study.

My father approaches me. He claps me on the back. "Ready to go claim that sword?" His proud smile pushes me to go to the Silent City even though I was going to anyways. I know my dad has always been proud of me but he rarely shows it. And when he does, it makes everything worth it.

"Nah. I'd rather stay here," I joke. He laughs. He and I walk to my room so I can change in a comfortable silence. I have to say, my dad's pretty awesome.

**I know this is really bad. If you have any suggestions, just message me or flat out review. **

**Bye!**


	8. Chapter 8: Is It Really Mine?

**Chapter 8: Clary**

I stand by the main entrance to the manor, waiting for the others to arrive. Calohaya is strapped to my back and Dombra is hanging at my side. The former provides a comforting warmth, always showing that it's there. Dombra doesn't emit any feeling and I don't know whether that is because it's the Sword of Darkness or because it's not truly mine.

The craziness of the past 12 hours has been...crazy, I guess. Zara's already gone, though it's probably because of her wounded pride. It feels like an entire weight has been lifted off the manor's shoulders because of her absence. She was a terrible influence.

Don't get me started on this whole sword business. I'm still pissed at my mother but this ordeal did give me Calohaya, which I'm thankful for. I don't know what life would've been like if I had never known about it and quite frankly, I wouldn't even want to imagine. I'm already unhealthily attached to this sword and I've only had it for less than five hours, I'd say.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts by the heat emanating from Dombra. I stare at the sword in wonder. It hasn't done anything all day and now I'm getting a second-degree burn. Wow. Just wow.

"What're you staring at Red? I'm wounded that it isn't me," I hear from in front of me. I look up to find Jace leaning lazily against the opposite wall. Despite his relaxed composure, his gaze is sharp and attentive.

I hate to admit it but I kind of lucked out in the forced-fiancé department. I mean, for the most part. He's gorgeous, a talented Shadowhunter, smart, and even some times, sweet. I don't know how this whole marriage thing will bode with his player ways but I hope it doesn't come down to me finding out about him cheating. I also don't want to kill him because of his ego and sarcasm but as we turn 18, we can go out on more missions and slicing demons into itty-bitty pieces always helps my patience.

"This sword of yours is burning a hole into my leg, literally," I reply, looking back down at Dombra. The sword doesn't look any different than it did two minutes ago when it wasn't burning up. Same sleek, dark silver and even darker hilt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Jace quirk his eyebrow. "'Burning a hole'? Could you elaborate?"

I shrug. "All of a sudden, it started getting really hot really quickly." It still hasn't stopped getting hotter and now I'm afraid it will burn through the formal gear I put on. I remove it from its hilt and weirdly enough, it doesn't burn my hand. It provides the same warmth Calohaya does, just an eensy bit less.

"Let me see." Jace struts over and stops when he's almost touching foreheads with me. For the first time in my life, I'm painfully aware of his proximity. My skin tingles all over but I'm determined to not allow it to show.

"Put your hand on the blade," I say. "Tell me if it's hot for you."

Jace obliges and places a calm hand on the blade. As he does, his eyebrows furrow. "I don't know what to say except that it feels totally cool to me." He glances between the weapon and me.

I touch the blade again. To my immediate surprise, it's not hot at all. It's warm again. I scrunch my nose in confusion.

Jace laughs, his minty breath fanning across my face. "You know you're cute when you do that, right Red?"

I step back and re-sheath Dombra. I couldn't stand that close to Jace any longer or else all of my resolve would've dissipated and I would've initiated a huge make-out situation.

A flicker of hurt darts across Jace's face after I remove myself from his proximity so fast that I doubt if I ever actually saw it. A coolness settles over his features and Jace rocks back on his heels.

We wait in tense silence for roughly about 15 minutes. I'm surprised it only took Izzy that long to get ready.

Stephen stands at the front of the group, Jace right beside him. The older Herondale looks at me. "Do you have the sword, Clary?"

I nod. "Haven't taken it off since I put the gear on."

"Let's go, then!" Jon cheers and we respond just as enthusiastically. The horde of Shadowhunters exit and I find myself in step with Aline.

"Something's up with Jace," she whispers. "He looks...conflicted, almost." She looks at me accusingly. Not in a bad way, just a _did-you-do-something _kind of way.

I shrug. "Boys are that way sometimes."

"Clary!" My mom yells from the front of the group. She points at the big oak behind her. I guess this is the new destination for Portals.

I run up and skirt around Jace. He seems better than he did when I pulled away but I notice him tense when I pass. I don't know what his problem is and I hope this doesn't last all that long.

_I thought you despised him, _a voice counters from the back of my head as I step up to the tree. As much as I would love to debate with the voice, I need my full attention on the rune. Soon enough, a Portal emerges from the bark, swirling and blue. I step through first. It's a common rule when I create one of these that I always go through before everyone else.

I slide out of the way once I hit the stone floor of the Silent City. The red-and-bronze tile glistens dangerously in the torchlight, sending shivers up my spine. I've never liked either the Silent City nor the Adamant Citadel.

Feet pound the floor behind me. I look over my shoulder to find Jace, looking bored but on guard at the same time. To my surprise, he walks up and stands next to me.

"Can I see it, please?" he asks.

"Sure." I slide it out of its sheath. The torches cast odd shadows over the coloring, making it look demonic.

Jace looks entranced. He reaches out and brushes the hilt almost reverently with his right hand. "I still can't believe this."

I don't respond. I know how it feels. My brain still can't seem to grasp the fact that Calohaya is _mine_. Not anyone else's. _Mine_.

The group files in behind us and Stephen takes back the lead. I put Dombra back but I don't miss the longing in Jace's golden eyes.

We travel about halfway down the hallway before two Silent Brothers appear. I know I should be used to their appearances by now, but the stitched mouths and scars still freak me out.

_What brings you here, Shadowhunters? _The voice of the Silent Brother on the right echoes through my head and I unconsciously move toward Jace. It's freezing down here and this guy beside me is a human heater.

"My son, Jonathan Herondale, is here to claim…" he trails off, looking to me for support.

I move up. "Jonathan Herondale is here to claim Dombra, the Sword of Light." I pull it out for what seems like the kjphillionth time in the past hour. The Silent Brothers near and I suppress a shudder.

_Are you the chosen of Calohaya, Clarissa? _

I bring out my sword and hold the two side-by-side. "Yes."

_Very well. Clarissa, please follow my fellow Brother. Everyone else, if you may follow me. _The Silent Brother that didn't speak turns around and starts walking down the hallway, then disappearing into a doorway. I sprint to catch up. Their gait may be odd but it ss quick.

Ignoring the curious stares, I walk in the steps of the Brother. The door he went through leads to a stairwell and I can faintly make out his body figure.

_Clarissa, _the Brother speaks from in front of me, _this is an unusual experience, I'm sure you realize. These are immensely powerful swords that should not be taken for granted. _

I finally catch up to the Brother, slightly out of breath. "Of course."

_By surrendering Dombra to Jonathan, you will be bound forever, in a manner similar to that of your relationship with Simon Lovelace. These weapons were crafted in honor of _parabatai _after all and that means they hold mostly the same qualities. _We end our descent and enter a room that had a large number of Silent Brothers. The design of the room wasn't much different from above but it was still disorienting. _Wait here while I converse with the others. _The Brother swept off, leaving me feeling awkward by the door.

The Brother returns, flanked by the others. _You went through the test at the Adamant Citadel, correct?_

I nod. "Yes."

_Good. We have a few questions for you and then we will join your friends and family above. _

Another Brother moves forward. He's one of the only ones I recognize. It's Brother Enoch. _Answer each question truthfully and on your honor, Clarissa. Now, what is your full name?_

"Clarissa Adele Morg-Fairchild," I stutter. I feel like I'm back Adamant Citadel but the only difference is that my last name hadn't been changed.

_How old are you?_

"17."

_Who are your parents?_

"Valentine Morgenstern and Jocelyn Fairchild."

_Who are your brothers?_

"Jonathan Morgenstern and Sebastian Morgenstern."

_Who is your _parabatai_?_

"Simon Lovelace."

_Are you romantically promised to anyone currently?_

I hesitate. I'm not sure if that's what you would call it and the term made it very real. "Y-yes."

_Who?_

"Jonathan Herondale."

_Do you seek to stay in good standing with Clave?_

"Always." As long as my father stays who he is, I _have _to stay in good-standing with Clave. It's a must.

_You have passed. When we join your companions, you will stand next to me with Dombra in whichever hand is Jonathan's dominant one. _Easy, it's the left. _Most of the ritual will be done by the Brothers but the most important part will be by you. We will prompt you to ease your worry. This will be a bit different than the one you underwent but not by much._

Great. Just what I want to go through again.

Brother Enoch leaves and I start walking, eager to get away from that room. Something about it unsettles me and things that unsettle me are things I don't like.

The walk is quiet, at least out loud, but I expected that. I mean, for all I know, the Brothers could be having a conversation about sex inside their heads and I wouldn't know.

We emerge from an alcove that had a door I never knew existed until this moment. Everyone's heads quickly shot to us but I look down. I could feel Jace's gaze before everyone else's and it was like someone was branding his gaze onto my skin.

In my peripheral vision, I could make out Jace's feet inside a runed circle. Everyone else was standing against the far wall in a single line.

_Remember what we told you to do_, a Silent Brother says.

I stand to the right of Brother Enoch, who took a place at the top of the circle. I take out Dombra and hold it in my left hand. I'm unsure whether or not I should bring Calohaya so I leave it be.

_State your full name_, Brother Enoch commands to Jace.

"Jonathan Christopher Herondale."

_State your parents' names._

"Stephen and Céline Herondale."

_State your _parabatai's _name._

"Alexander Lightwood."

_State your romantically promised's name._

I bite my lip. I don't know if Jace heard about my last name change. I look up and meet Jace's eyes, somehow miraculously, and mouth _Fairchild _to him. I hope he understands.

"Clarissa M-Fairchild." He stutters a bit but I nod vigorously, try to convey that he was correct.

_Do you believe yourself to be a direct descendant of James Herondale?_

"Yes."

Another Brother speaks, but this time just to me. _Keep one hand on Calohaya's hilt. Don't draw it just yet, but keep your hand there. _I follow his orders and calm flows from the sword through me. I feel confident and strong with Calohaya which is exactly what I need to feel right now.

_Jonathan, repeat after me._ Light bursts from the runes and the ritual looks exactly like the _parabatai _one from the outside as it did the inside. Jace repeats the same oath I did before the flames burst up, lifting him with them.

_It is your turn, Clarissa_, Brother Enoch says. _Stand where I stood. _I do so. _Repeat my words._

I say what the Brothers tell me to. "As the carrier of the Sword of Darkness," I announce, "I endow to you the weapon of choice, Jonathan. As you accept Dombra, you and I will be bound alike _parabatai_, as our ancestors were before us." I swear I sound like Shakespeare right now. "You and I will fight together as Light and as Darkness, as one." I finish the rest of my piece which isn't very interesting.

_Step into the circle and place Dombra in Jonathan's hands._

I tentatively move toward the fire, the weapon outstretched. My hand is still on Calohaya, which is currently the only thing pushing me forward. Unlike the Iron Sisters, I am not immune to fire and I can't move easily through it.

I put a foot inside and quickly draw the other one behind it. The heat is suffocating and I can tell Jace wants to get this over with. I place Dombra in Jace's hands and exit swiftly.

The light flares brightly before turning dark. The once yellowish-whitish color darkens to a dark-blue, almost black shade.

Then all at once, the fire drops. Jace crumples in a heap, the tip of Dombra sticking out from under his body.

Alec and Stephen immediately run forward but Brother Enoch stops them. _Only Clarissa can safely touch Jonathan at this moment. _

Seeing the desperation, I move toward Jace. As soon as I enter the circle, the air charges with some sort of electricity.

I crouch down next to the golden-haired boy. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I push him over and he's now lying on his back, Dombra resting in the crook of his armpit. Jace's eyes flutter before flying open.

"C-Clary, i-is it over?" he asks weakly.

I run my hand through his silky waves. "Yeah, it's over. But that's not the worst part."

He groans before groggily sitting up. "What do you mean? I thought you said it was over."

I grin and he looks alarmed, even in his loopy state. "We still have to go the tailor's."

Jace abruptly grips Dombra in a white-knuckled manner. His eyes dart to it, staring at it in awe. "Is this really mine now?"

_You are now the chosen of the Sword of Shadows, Jonathan Herondale. May it serve you as it day James: faithfully. _

I unharness the sheath from my back and hand it to Jace, who slips it onto his torso. I outstretch my hand to help him up after he returns it to its holder.

"Tailor time," I tease.

Jace's groans echo throughout the Silent City.

**Hey guys,**

**I just wanted to apologize for the delay in updating. School recently kick-started for me, sometime around late August, and I've just been so wrapped up in homework and studying that this was put on the backburner. Now, I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any suggestions for what I should put in, please don't be afraid to comment.**

**And don't worry, Sizzy and Malec ****_will _****be included in this fanfiction 100%.**

**-AgentLadd**


	9. Chapter 9: Forever

**Chapter 9: Jace**

The streets of Alicante are relatively busy. People walk in and out of the classic weapon and gear shops while others are just riding on horseback just because they can. I itch to get on Wayfarer and just gallop for miles but I haven't been able to do that in weeks. That's high on my priority list.

The group coming to the tailors isn't as big as the one going to the Silent City was. The parents are taking the couples alone, meaning the only ones going are me, Clary, my mother, and Jocelyn.

The Silent City. I still can't believe that the whole thing happened. Even though I was just sworn to a sword, this feels life-changing. Dombra has lightened up my view of the world, however ironic that might be. And I find it even better that my future wife has the other half of this legendary pair.

Today's been an alright day, besides this morning in the hall. I don't know what spurred Clary to step back but it kind of hurt me. I thought we were having a valuable moment - hell, I thought we were going to kiss for a few seconds - and then she put space between us that seemed as great as the divide between Heaven and Hell.

Speaking of the devil, Clary bumps into my side while we trudge down a hill. Our mothers are chatting excitedly in front of us and I can only imagine what they are scheming.

"Pretty crazy day, huh?" Clary asks softly. I can barely hear her over the din of the surrounding city.

I nod. This day has gone beyond words. I can't tell if I should mark it as great or just super odd but either way, I have Dombra. And Clary.

"

Never had a day like it before."

She gives me a side-glance. "I would seriously alarmed if you have had one like this."

I chuckle. Clary's one of the only people that can make me crack a genuine smile, let alone laugh, and the list of people that can do what she does is microscopically low. "Smart-ass."

We fall silent. I can feel the stares and faintly hear the whispers as we walk down the street but they don't bother me. It never has and that won't change.

"What's your opinion on this whole marriage thing, Jace?" Clary whispers. She sounds worried, scared. My heart breaks just a little at the raw expression on her face.

In a split-second decision, I grab her hand. She stares at them first before meeting my eyes with her own. I know I shouldn't say this yet but I can't help the words that are coming out.

"I believe that it's the best thing that's ever happened to me," I say and her eyes grow wide. "I've liked you for as long as I can remember and you never gave me the time of day. Some part of me wants this to be nonexistent, that maybe this was just a little crush that didn't mean anything, but the bigger part of me is over the moon."

We unconsciously slow our pace. Clary stares at me, mouth open. She closes it several times, trying to find the right words, but they don't seem to come.

This is the moment. This will decide how we will spend the rest of our lives. I put my piece out, leaving it up to Clary and this is one of the only decisions I had hoped she didn't have to make. Because I'm 100% sure she doesn't feel the same.

The jingle of a bell makes us both look up. We are standing in front of the tailor and our mothers just entered. They look ecstatic. Clary goes to follow them but I pull her back.

"Clary, you don't have to answer. You don't have to tell me you love me back. But please, please, help me—help _us_ work this marriage out," I ask earnestly.

She nods. "I'll try." Her voice cracks in between the two words and I know I've broken a wall. Voices crack only when there's a considerable amount of emotion.

Clary turns around and goes into the store with me on her tail. With no surprise, we find our mothers already immersed in the bride section. An older lady is gushing with them, though her opinion seems more educated.

All three of them look up when we round the corner and the lady's face lights up. "Is this the bride?"

Jocelyn nods. "My daughter, Clary."

The lady scurries over and studies her. "She's gorgeous. Oh, I know the exact dress!" At those words, she darts off while Clary blushes furiously.

"Feel weird yet?" I whisper.

"I felt weird just walking through this place." She stuffs her hands in her pockets. "Why do we have to go first?"

"Your father wanted the strongest to be before the weak. Meaning, we're here because of me." I smirk at her annoyed expression.

"If you keep that arrogance up, we're going to have some issues, mister."

I nudge her playfully. "You know it's a joke."

She frowns. "Do I?"

The next few hours are focused on clothes. I never knew there were so many different types of black and styles of ceremonial gear. I'll never be able to look at myself the same way again.

The workers and our mothers made sure that Clary and I never saw the other person. I get that I can't see Clary but I don't understand why she can't see me. Who wouldn't want to see me?

When we're finished, I'm both mentally and physically exhausted. And if I'm this bad, I can't imagine Clary. She must be a wreck.

Mom hurries around the corner, eyes alight. "They'll have the suit ready in two days," she says. "Jocelyn and Clary still have a few more dresses to get through, so it'll just be you and more going back right now."

I shrug. "Alright."

Mom and I walk through the streets in a familial silence. My mind is temporarily calm, something that doesn't happen often and I very much enjoy. It's a calming experience and I'm going to need it for the coming weeks.

At some point, the sun set and the streets are flooded with the glow of the witchlights. The crowds thin and store fronts close. Windows brighten as people enter rooms.

My mother turns to me. "You almost didn't have to marry Clary, you know," she says softly. "I mean, you were going to be engaged to someone but it almost wasn't her."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why'd that change?"

"Because both your father and I knew how much you cared for her and we knew that you would protect her to the ends of the earth. Not many people benefit from arranged marriages but you did. And Clary did too, which I know she'll realize one day." She sighs. "One thing you need to remember, Jace—and it's not something you have a problem with now but you might later—is that Clary is a girl. She had her mood swings and she's very insecure. Don't push her too far but don't hold back. Go slow because this is—Clary isn't prepared. She's never...just let her set the pace."

I tip my head back, trying to let Mom's words sink in. I don't know what my mother's referring to when the topic of why she said it comes up. I didn't-don't-plan to force Clary to do anything and I know mood swings. I mean, I've known Izzy for a very long time. So what is my mom trying to say?

"Did you hear me?"

I nod. "Yes, I heard you. And I understand."

"Good. Now, let's get home."

(A week later…)

My heart thunders in my chest. My palms sweat. My knees feel weak.

Want to know why?

I'm.

Getting.

Freaking.

Married.

Today.

Damn.

I pace my room, trying to ignore the din of the massive crowd that can be heard a block from the Hall of Accords. Half of the Shadowhunter population must be in attendance at this wedding. I mean, yeah, who wouldn't want to miss the wedding of Jace Herondale and Clarissa Morgenstern, but couldn't they have something else to do? What happened to the demons prowling the world?

The door opens and I look up. Alec walks over and slings an arm around my shoulders in the way I'd always known.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Jace Herondale is actually nervous," Alec jokes, trying to lighten my mood.

I smile half-heartedly. "Well, when's that day coming?"

My _parabatai_ chuckles. "Pretty soon." Alec gives me a once over, his hand momentarily brushing invisible dust off my shoulder. "You'll be fine, Jace. You're marrying the girl you've loved for years today. Who cares if all of Alicante is here? You're _Jace Herondale_, you don't give two craps, right?"

I run a hand through my hair. "I shouldn't but I do."

"Well, tell the part of you that does to shut up." Alec claps me on the back. "Now, you and I have to get our butts out to the Hall or your father is going to have some issues with us."

I smirk. "Those issues better not damage my hair."

Alec sighs. "And he's back," he mutters.

With newly-found enthusiasm in my step, I sling an arm over Alec's shoulder. "Where did I go? Last time I checked, people called me a lost penny. I always manage to show up."

My _parabatai _doesn't reply because my wit is so high, he can't even try to comeback to my ingenious responses.

We walk to the Accords Hall, where my father is waiting for us. He's my _suggenes_, just as General Morgenstern is Clary's. I'm not excited for the part where we get welcomed into the other's family. The thought of giving the general a hug is just as intimidating as he is. And that's saying a _lot_.

My dad smiles proudly as we approach. He pulls me into a hug as soon as I'm close enough. "I can't believe the day is actually here. My son is getting married." His voice, no matter how dry his eyes may be, is heavy with emotion. If my dad's this bad, what about my mom? Oh no. "Well," my dad continues, "I can't keep you any longer. You have a girl to wed."

Dad pushes me toward the Hall, trailing slightly and keeping pace with Alec. Ahead are the Morgenstern brothers, the rest of the Lightwood males, and Simon.

Jonathan looks me up and down in a calculating manner. His green eyes almost make me cower with their intensity. He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as I stop in front of them. Talk about being intimidating.

Sebastian hits his brother on the arm. "Stop being so…you, Jon. Jace has it bad enough." He gestured toward the humongous Accords Hall, where the voices of people were so loud I was tempted to cover my ears.

Jon nudges Seb right back. "He's marrying our _little sister_. I have to make sure he fits my standards!"

Seb groans. "Clary can handle herself."

"That's what you say—"

"Enough, you two," Robert booms. He glares at the two long enough so they understand that of all times, _now _is not it for arguing.

My dad comes up from behind me. "It's go time, Jace."

I breathe deeply as we line up. _My nerves need to take a chill pill. I will not freeze up. No, never, not gonna happen. You hear that brain?_

Izzy walks up next to me, taking her place as the Maid of Honor. We link arms and she grins, practically laughing through her eyes. "You nervous?"

I shake my head, blatantly lying. "Nope."

She raises her eyebrows in mock disbelief because Izzy will always know when I'm lying. "Really? that's great! So it doesn't matter to you that every Shadowhunter whose opinion you care about is standing in that hall waiting for you to mess up?"

I groan. Izzy can be a real pain sometimes and she was being a huge one right now. "Thanks a lot. I needed that."

The next few minutes are a blur. It's a mix of anxiety, anticipation, and pure happiness. All I can register throughout those few next moments are that I end up standing before a Silent Brother with my dad behind me, staring at the place where I know Clary will be emerging from any second now.

Unlike before, which happened all in a blur, when Clary reveals herself, time slows to a crawl.

It's so hard to describe how completely and absolutely _beautiful _Clary is. Her dress is slim and long, sparkling a deep gold in the sunlight that floods through the Hall. It casts light on her fair skin, accenting how smooth it looks. The front strands of her hair are pulled back into a braid but the rest of it is down, just how I like it. But I can't get over her eyes.

There is no make makeup surrounding her eyes. They are the same pure green I fell in love with all those years ago. They're bright and for the first time, I see a Clary who is free and happy with no weight on her shoulders. My heart swells with overwhelming and eternal _love _for this woman.

And when our eyes meet, I know for a fact that any doubts I had or she had were gone. Any whispers of fear disappeared like they were never there in the first place. I know that despite whatever feelings that may have been felt by the other before this were gone, replaced by adoration and love that is flowing from our pores. Everyone else fades from view except the one person I am destined for.

_Clarissa Adele Morgenstern._

When she arrives at the end of the aisle where I'm standing, I'm all too eager to grab her hands. The Silent Brother speaks words I'm only partially listening to—the rest of my attention is focused on Clary.

The runes come and go. I will never forget the feeling of all of my emotions toward her, flowing from me through the stele and into her arm. I will never lose the memory of her doing the same to me, sending all of her love to me in the symbol of the wedding rune, permanent as as the Angel in the Heavens.

And at long last, I finally get to do what I've been itching to do for all those years ago from when I first fell in love with her to now.

"I wed you Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Christopher Herondale."

And that's all I hear as I lower my lips to Clary's, wrapping ourselves in flames of heavenly fire, threatening to burn us to the ground with the power of our love.

Through all the pain Clary's put me through, we're finally together.

_Forever._

**Sorry, it took so long to update. School has really put me through a loop and I can't find the time to write. I hope to be more consistent this year.**


	10. Chapter 10: All About Us

**Author's Note: As much as it might seem at first, there is no juicy stuff happening here. It's not going into *that* much detail because I'm not really that type of person. This is strictly rated T here. But I'm willing to write something a bit more detailed on another story on Fanfiction if you want. Just message me or review if you do. I hope you like this chapter because it all came from the heart. In my eyes, this is how the foundation of Jace and Clary's relationship really pans out. Anyways, even if you didn't like the chapter, just tell me and I'll try to write something you will like!**

**Chapter 10: Clary **

There's nothing more frustrating to me than a wedding reception.

It's just a bunch of people (in my case, half of the Shadowhunter population) sending you well wishes and getting an excuse to get drunk. And it makes you wait until you can finally be alone with the person you love most. 

I still can't get the feeling of Jace's lips on mine. I realized I loved him when I saw him standing there, in front of Brother Enoch, looking so…worshipful. Like I was an angel sent down from Heaven only for him. And I knew, right then, that there would be no other person for me. Jace was my one and only for eternity. My feelings for him were only strengthened by the kiss and I want so badly to continue it. 

The party is bright and loud, just to the point where it hurt. Around me, people dance and chat and drink, all doing _something _to keep the event alive. I desperately want Jace next to me but for some unknown reason, he's not in the room. Neither is Alec or his father, which worries me to no limit.

Izzy pops up next to me, looking devilishly beautiful in her dress. She has a glass in her hand and her eyes are a bit hazy.

"How's it feel, Clary? To finally be married?" Izzy slings an arm over my shoulder and leans heavily. _Barely a quarter into the night and she's already full-on drunk. Impressive._

I sigh. "It feels great but the person I just married is nowhere to be found."

Two strong arms encircle me from behind and Izzy laughs, pulling away. "Oh, really? It looks like he's here now."

I would've glared at her if I wasn't so caught up in Jace. He rests his chin on my shoulder, smelling of leather and soap, the only scent besides cockiness and sweat that I've ever associated him with. His warm breath tickles my ear.

"Just as bored as I am, huh?" he whispers slightly, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

I relax into my new _husband. Oh wow, that's going to take a while to get used to. _"Not as much now that you're here."

Jace laughs, his muscled chest vibrating. "Cheesy, are we?"

"I could do worse. I could do _way _worse."

His lips brush my the back of my neck. "Care to elaborate?"

I barely manage to contain the moan that bubbles up. "Not…right now," I breathe, my voice so close to shaking.

I can practically _feel _his smirk. "Do I really affect you that much, Clarissa?"

I turn in his arms and glare, not manipulated enough to lose my wits. "Apparently not," I reply back, a matching sneer growing on my own face. "I'm pretty sure I can still slap you. And _that _is something I'd like to elaborate on."

Jace chuckles. "Now, who would dare mess up my beautiful face?"

Snorting, I turn back around, secretly enjoying the feeling of being in Jace's arms. "Clearly, you have a vocabulary problem. You mistook 'horrifying' for 'beautiful'. Do I need to send you back to primary school?"

"Oops, my bad. Here, let me try again: Now, who would dare mess up my horrifyingly beautiful face?"

I slap his arm in response.

As the last of the guests leave, I let out an audible sigh of relief. It's nearing 2 am, almost three hours after the party was originally set to end. I'm not _that _mad, considering I had almost seven glasses of wine, but I'm definitely not splendidly joyous that it took that long. Right now, all I want is to enjoy some time with my husband, my Jace.

_Alone._

Obviously, some people don't get that message.

My mother whirls around me, fluffing my hair while straightening my dress (not my wedding gown but a different one). I don't understand why, taking into account that Jace and I are traveling through a Portal to our honeymoon location. And is Jace really going to care if my dress is slightly rumpled or not?

In the corner of the room the Portal is set up in, Jon is having a private talk with Jace, who's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and not really listening. Although I have a feeling he doesn't really want to listen anyways.

My mother finally spins in a circle, her face scrunched together in a contemplative expression. She counts on her fingers through her mental checklist before clapping her hands and clasping them on my shoulders.

In the dim light, I can still see tears glistening, unshed, in her eyes. She's smiling, however sad it may be, and just for a moment, I feel bad that I'm leaving her. But then I think about all the missions I've gone on without her and don't feel that bad again.

My mother places a warm hand on my cheek. "Have a great time, Clary. I know this isn't what you dreamt of when you were younger but us Shadowhunters have always been behind the times." Mom sighs. "I just hope you know that Jace loves you with all his heart and in time, I hope you come to feel the same way."

I smile back at her, placing my hand over hers. "Trust me, Mom, I already have."

As she laughs, tears start to spill down Mom's cheeks. "Just remember: Don't worry about stuff back here. Focus on you and Jace, ok?"

I nod. "Of course. It's going to be all about us."

"All about you."

At the other end of the room, my father and Jace's come striding in. Dad's absolutely beaming, his expression so filled with pride, my heart swells. All my life, I've wanted to make my dad proud of me, and here I was, doing just that.

My father embraces me in a crushing hug, which I return with equal fervor. Even though he's never been the huggy type, Dad's hugs have always been the best.

He pulls away at last, holding me at an arm's length while maintaining strict eye-contact. "Stay safe, Clarissa. I don't want you to be hurt."

I shake my head. "I won't. I have my Shadowhunting gear, just in case something goes wrong."

"Let's just hope nothing does." He hugs me one last time before walking going over to my mother and pulling her to his side. She leans into him gratefully. They look so happy, so complete, I know for a fact that they are how I want to be with Jace one day. Complete and happy and totally in love.

So to speak of the Devil.

Warm, calloused figures slip into mine, clasping themselves firmly. I look back to find Jace gazing at me with so much love and devotion, my heart cracks just a little. There's nothing I wouldn't do for this man.

It's funny how our relationship has escalated so quickly, yet we are still so confident in how strongly we feel. I've never been one to truly believe in fate, but damn it all, Jace and I are soulmates. I have absolutely no doubts.

"Ready to go?" He whispers softly. Those three words send my heart into a racing whirlwind, prepared to explode at any second.

I squeeze his hand. "Wherever you go, I will always follow."

His answering smile is response enough.

With the final farewells from the assembled family members, Jace and I go to stand in front of the Portal.

My stomach flutters as the moment we are finally alone draws near. I've always imagined this moment but never really thought that it would come. But it has.

Jace looks at me one more time before we step through the Portal and into our new life, together.

"Don't let go," he whispers, just loud enough for only me to hear. His golden eyes burn into my own green ones, almost praying that I will respond with the only thing that will complete his sentence. As if I would do anything else.

"Never."

Each step he takes toward the whirling blue screen is another eternity. It seems as if a million years have passed when the wind finally grabs a hold of me and sucks me in like a whirlpool.

But our hands never let go.

The first thing that greets me when I arrive is Jace's strong arms. The second is his lips, already descending onto my own.

They are soft and warm, molding over my own. Waves of pleasure roll through my body and I sigh. This is what I've been wanting to do since Brother Enoch declared us husband and wife.

Passion would not be a word strong enough to describe the feelings sparking through this kiss. However slow it may be, I can't even begin to grasp all of the feelings—of Jace's body pressed against mine, of his hands making their reverent descent down my torso. It's all too much, too many new emotions and sensations for me to fully understand what is going on. The only thing keep me grounded is Jace. What an irony.

Jace picks me up, bridal style, and starts walking toward an unknown destination. I'm too dazed to notice where. I'm actually too dazed to notice anything, since he's still kissing me.

A soft, feathery mattress cushions me as Jace lays me down gently on the bed. For a moment, I'm cold and empty but Jace soon returns, his face directly over mine but not quite close enough to kiss.

"Clary," he breathes. His face is flushed, his lips puffy and swollen. But even in his rumpled state, Jace hasn't lost his breathtaking beauty. I feel like I've been seeing him through half-lidded eyes all this time but now I can truly look at him. He's like an angel, a clear-cut handsomeness specially crafted by the hands of God.

My hand shakes as it comes up to embrace his cheek. Jace closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, I'm almost scared by the desire burning through, turning his golden irises dark.

"Jace," I reply back, my voice barely above a whisper. But I need to go no louder because I'm certain that Jace will always hear me, even if I'm all the way across the world.

Jace trembles, bowing his head at the sound of his name escaping my lips. He looks up when he starts speaking, "I love you, Clarissa, so much. I will kill any anything that stands between you and me or even send the wrong look your way. I will protect you and love you and care for you until the end of time, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then. You're my everything and…" he trailed off, letting his eyes tell the rest of the story.

I let my fingers trace the lines of his face, let the words spill from my mouth. This is the time to be honest, to get rid of any walls separating us. "I will always be here for you, Jonathan. I will be your rock, your weapon, your shield, your love. I will heal you and fight with you and fight for you. But most importantly, I will love you, just as much as you do me, if not more. Because you complete me in ways I never thought possible." My fingers leave Jace's face and drift toward the stele, which is sitting on the bedside table. I had felt its thrum of energy as soon as Jace had carried me into the room, and I know exactly its purpose.

Fingers closing around the cool metal, I bring it back. I keep eye-contact with Jace as I unbutton his shirt, pushing it off after I pop all the clasps.

I raise the stele to his chest, letting it hover just above his heart, right next to his _parabatai _rune. Jace watches with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving mine but always aware.

With deliberate slowness, I start drawing the second rune of Marriage across his pectoral muscles. My eyes dip to the graceful mass of swirling lines, watching as my hand moves of its own accord.

Jace's breathing grows ragged, his eyes shut tight as I trace the mark of the angels onto his skin. It's not like the rapid rush of emotion like the runes were in the Accords Hall but slow and steady, one part of an eternal bridge being built.

Wordlessly, Jace takes the stele from me as I finish the last curl. He trains his attention on me as his finger slide down the straps of my dress, one after another, exposing my chest to him. Both of our heartbeats increase, pounding against the bounds of our bones, aching to reach the other.

I let out a gasp as the stele connects to my skin. As it slides over my body, the rest of our bond is being strengthened. It feels as though I can read Jace's mind, share his feelings.

That we are one.

Jace sets the stele back on the table and we just stop. The air is thick with tension, almost suffocating.

And then it breaks.

We collide, crashing together like two comets on the same path. Our bodies fit together, like destined puzzle pieces. Our mouths embrace the other's, an endless war of tongues and teeth. While earlier may have been reverent and gentle, now was passionate and needing.

Item by item, we are torn from our clothes, leaving us as bare to the other as the pages of a book. My hands map out Jace, from his soul to his heart to his body. He's always had a part of him in hiding but now I can see it, plain as day.

At the final moment, when it's only each other, when we're finally joined together as one, I see the last wall Jace put up come crumbling down. And as we fall together, as one united entity, I know for a fact that it is, truly, all about us.

Forever and ever, about us.

**By the way, Happy Belated Valentine's Day!**


	11. Chapter 11: What's Wrong?

**Chapter 11: Jace**

I still can't believe it.

I'm married to Clarissa Morgenstern.

All my life, I have dreamt of this moment. She's been my crush for so long and now she's my wife, my love. There is no way I could be any happier than I am now.

I look down. Clary's bright red hair is spread across my chest, softy and comforting. I've watched it grow for so long, its lengths and cuts. It's always looked so silky, so tantalizing, and the mere thought of running my hands through it seemed unfathomable. But here I am, doing just that.

A small, contented sigh escapes Clary's lungs. Her dark eyelashes flutter open, revealing emerald green eyes. She adjusts her head so she's looking up at me, her mouth arranged into a small smile.

"Good morning," I greet quietly, rubbing my hand along her back. Her skin is smooth and soft under my own fingers.

Clary traces a small pattern on my chest. Her eyes watch her fingers as they leave trails of fire behind. I almost hate how much she affects me but I can't hate anything about her. My heart simply can't do such a thing.

"Hi," Clary replies. She finally meets my eyes and my breath catches. She's just so beautiful.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, moving my hand from her back to her arm, pulling her closer. Her body curves to meet mine and I can't help the smile tearing across my face. I'm too happy to contain my emotions.

"Happy." Clary laughs. "And a little bit shocked. I never expect this day to come so soon. Or at all." She stops her drawings on my skin and tucks her hands under her chin, resting it so her lips are inches away from mine.

"Did you not think you would get married?" I'm confused. Clary left out quite the amount of details there.

"I-I didn't think I would ever get married to…_you_. I mean, all my life I've seen you as Jace Herondale, my older brothers' cocky best friend. And, yeah, I did care for you then but I still didn't ever think it would be you I'd end up with." Clary bites her lip, worried about my reaction. "I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "Don't be sorry. I understand. I knew how you felt about me before this whole thing happened. Quite frankly, I thought you completely loathed me. But that's changed, right? And it's not like the past is going to change how we feel now, anyways."

My wife (I'm never going to get used to that) relaxes against me. Her fingers reach up and brush my cheekbone, slow and reverent. Almost as if she can't believe I'm here.

But I am and I always will be.

I take her palm and turn it, kissing the soft skin gently. Clary smiles and rests her head, looking out the windows into the jungle beyond. The Rio Institute had rented out a little bungalow for us to use as our honeymoon location on the request of General Morgenstern. I'm very thankful.

A rumble rips through the silence. At first, I think there's a demon. My arm shoots out for the stele on the bedside table, my only weapon. _Wow, how my life has sunk. _Then, I look down to find Clary grinning at me.

I raise an eyebrow. _Why is she laughing about a demon? Oh…oh._

"Are you hungry?" I ask, a little skeptically, if I might add. I'm still not totally sure there's not a demon ready to devour us.

Clary giggles. "Extremely. And no, there's no demon prowling outside the bedroom door."

"Yeah, but there's a demon on the inside," I mutter. Clary hears me and slaps my chest.

"Asshole," she replies.

I raise my hand in protest. "I'm really more of a—"

Clary covers my mouth with her hand. "Don't finish that sentence."

It's too good of a chance. I can't help myself. I really shouldn't do it. But, come on, it's perfect!

I lick her hand.

Clary rears back, squealing. She wipes her hand desperately on the sheets in an effort to get it off. When her fit's over, she scowls. "Jerk."

"Most people would actually call me—"

"Jace," Clary purrs, leaning over me. Her red hair creates a fiery curtain around us. She places her hands on my chest, where my heart is pounding away. She leans in slowly, hovering her lips right above mine.

"Hm?" I ask, too dazed to really care about forming words.

"_Shut up_." With that, Clary picks my shirt up off the floor and prances out of the room.

I growl at her. Clary's going to pay for that. Oh, time to plan my revenge.

My head peeks around the corner. Clary's in the kitchen, her back to me. _Perfect position_, I think victoriously.

Clary left the bedroom about half-an-hour ago and I've been in there up until two minutes previous, devising a plan of revenge. What Clary did to me was neither nice nor innocent. She knew what she was doing and she's going to pay.

The stele burns as the tip traces a Soundless rune onto my arm. This will probably be one of my only chances to initiate an attack like this and I will _not _mess it up.

Clary turns, for a moment, and I duck back, praying to the angels above that she didn't see me. I may be quick but Clary is very perceptive.

Another rune on the wall gives me a view of Clary in the kitchen. Instead of at the stove, where she was turned away, she's now at the sink, sideways. I'll have to wait until she's at the stove again.

Clary sighs and sends an exasperated look toward the hallway that leads to the bedroom. "Jace, come on, get your lazy behind out of bed!"

I grin. _If only she knew._

Clary turns back to the pans sizzling away. _This is my chance_.

I creep forward, low and quick. No noise escapes the floor boards under my feet. Silence is key.

Clary turns, ever so slightly, and I roll, so that I'm crouched behind the peninsula extending from a wall to my right. I hear another sizzle and I take that as a cue of safety.

My trek is short from there on. About three inches from Clary's body, I stand up, resting my head on her shoulder and wrapping my arms around her torso.

Clary shrieks and hits my arm. "Jace, you scared me!"

I shrug. "Eh, well, too bad." I shift my head so that my lips are gently brushing over the tender skin of her neck. Clary shivers.

One of my hands drifts down, skimming over her bare thighs. Clary exhales sharply, leaning against me. That's the exact response I want.

I bite down on Clary's collarbone, sucking to soothe the ache. My hand below trails up, causing Clary's breath to come out in hard pants.

"Jace," she moans. "Please."

It takes all of my willpower, literally all of it, to drop a chaste kiss on Clary's cheek before removing myself.

I do exactly that. Clary growls as I walk away.

My stroll is leisurely as I stroll to the hallway, whistling on my way.

Suddenly, I'm on the ground. A weight is pressed on my butt, straddling my body.

"That was mean," Clary says lowly, leaning to whisper in my ear.

"That was revenge," I correct. "There's a difference." There's more to my sentence but it never escapes as Clary licks under my ear. I groan instead.

In an instant, my back is on the floor, not my stomach. Clary's now on my abs, her hands on my shoulders. Once more, her hair is a curtain around us, though this time I know she won't pull away. She can't pull away.

"How does the floor sound?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

Clary rolls her bottom lip into her mouth out of apprehension. "Won't it be uncomfortable? I mean, the floor's pretty hard."

I smirk. "You know what else is hard? My—"

Clary cuts me off by pressing her lips to mine. "Jace," she murmurs against my mouth. "Just stop talking."

"Mm, sure," I whisper back, not really caring. My attention is on kissing and not much else.

I roll us over so Clary's on the bottom and I'm on the top. In this position, I have at great vantage point of how beautiful she really is. Clary has a secretive beauty, one you don't realize is there unless you are really looking. Most comment on her brothers' handsomeness or her mother's own beauty, never really looking past the surface to Clary's. And I think that's completely outrageous.

"Are you ready?" I ask, staring into Clary's eyes. It seems impossible that there are eyes as exquisite as her own.

"Always," she replies, sending us once more burning into a storm of love and passion.

Something wet hits me in the face.

My head shoots up, eyes narrowing on the redhead across the table who's eating her food with an innocent smile. She quirks her head to the side as I continue to glare at her.

"What's wrong?" she asks, batting her eyes sweetly. "Did something fall from the trees and hit you?"

Clary and I are on the back porch of the little bungalow right outside Rio de Janeiro. Jungle foliage surrounds us from all sides, creating a warm, humid little getaway. It is late evening, around the time for dinner, which I made. Yet it looks like _someone_ is throwing it rather than eating it.

"Why, yes. A coconut just happened to bonk me on the head a few seconds ago," I reply, sitting back. "What did you hit me with?" I wipe the spot where the projectile hit me. Blue stained my fingers. "Where the hell did you get a blueberry?"

Clary giggles. "I went to the market yesterday, remember? After we finished that little…_session _in the bathroom? Well, there was a lady there with produce and I bought some."

"And you've been keeping it where?" There is literally no space for her to put the excess food. The little bungalow is cute, yeah, but it's also microscopic. It has just enough room to last us a week before one of us accidentally steps on another person's toe for the millionth time and we both just explode.

"I didn't keep it all. There were some kids playing on the street and they looked so hungry, I just —I just gave it to them. They need it more than we do. I stuffed a few berries in my pocket and handed the rest over." Clary looks down at her plate, almost like she's ashamed of what she did.

I'm starstruck. It wouldn't seem like it at first but Clary has a heart of gold. She puts everyone else before herself without a second thought. For the zillionth time since we came here, I wonder how someone could be so perfect, inside and out.

I take her hand and tilt her chin up. Clary meets my eyes dead-on. "That's amazing. Why didn't you tell me, though?"

"I—I thought you would've been mad that I gave the fruit up like that. At home, my dad hates wasting supplies, even if it's for a good cause—"

I raise an eyebrow, grinning. "News flash, honey. I'm not your dad. I think that's great. Though why you need my approval is beyond me."

Clary shrugs. "Eh. I wanted to see if you'd actually be able to compliment someone else."

"It's rare but possible."

There is a flash and no sooner does it go away than it how it had appeared. Clary and I are out our seats within seconds. A seraph blade awaits in Clary's hand while a dagger rests in mine.

"Wait, wait, Jace, hold on," Clary says. Her hand with the blade drops, the weapon clattering to the table. There's a piece of paper in her hand. "It's—it's a fire message. From…from Magnus." Her voice is incredulous. "What in the world?" Her eyes skim the message. The color slowly drains from her face and my heart speeds up.

I approach her slowly. Clary seems to be losing herself by the seconds. "Clary? What's wrong?"

"It's Seb." I can barely hear her whisper. She stumbles back, her eyes glassy with shock, and falls. My arms catch her just as she's about to hit the floor.

Clary grabs my neck and hides her face. Wet tears dampen the collar of my shirt. _What could be so bad that Clary's crying?_

The answer is in the message.

_Dear Newlyweds,_

_I wish I could write to you on congratulations, but I can't. Earlier today, I was in my apartment in Brooklyn when a knock came to my door. It was Jonathan, holding a bloody Sebastian, with Alec and Isabelle right behind them. They had a run in with a band of rogue werewolves and Sebastian was mauled. _

_I tried my hardest, you know I did, but I could not save him. Sebastian's now in the care of the Silent Brothers. He's not dead but he might as well be. In an effort to save his life, the runes of a new Brother were placed upon him. He's now on his way to becoming a full-fledged one._

_I'm so sorry, Clary, Jace. I know how much Sebastian meant to you. _

_General Morgenstern wishes for you to return home immediately. There's a discussion to be had on how to move forward. He'll be waiting for your arrival._

_—Magnus Bane_

In my haze of shock, I don't notice what's wrong with this note. I don't notice all of the things that Magnus would've said if it had actually been him. But it wasn't him who wrote it.

"Jace, we need to go back," Clary sobs into my shoulder, shaky and broken. I can feel her pain, the agony stabbing my heart. "Jon can't go through this alone."

"Of course." I hug her hard before helping her up. "Do you think you can make a Portal?"

She nods weakly. "I think so."

"Come on." Even though I'm shocked, I still manage to stand, compared to the paralyzed Clay beside me. Not that I can blame her, of course.

The blue swirling mass pulses as Clary swirls the stele over the wall inside. We're just about to walk through when there's another sharp tug at my heart. _Dombra_, I realize. _Jace, you idiot._ How could I leave that here?

"Clary, stay here. I'll be right back," I say before dashing into our bedroom. Inside is more of a mess than anything else. My OCD ticks painfully but I ignore it, slipping on a gear jacket and Dombra's sheath. The sword is safely nestled inside. My fingers enclose around Calohaya and I'm right back where I was with Clary.

Clary is considerably more energized when Calohaya's set on her back. Her muscles are stronger now and she's standing by herself. Wow, that sword has some serious effects.

Her fingers slip into mine and then we are falling into the swirling abyss.

What we are met with is not the mourning silence of Morgenstern manor.

Smoke is the first thing I notice. And there's lots of it. It's suffocating, pushing in from all sides. It fogs my vision, messes up my hearing. The smell is poisonous.

"Clary, where did you send us?" I cough, pulling her close. Our hands hadn't been separated throughout the entire trip and I'm not about to lose her now.

"Morgenstern Manor!" she yells back. "But—"

"Clary! Jace!" There's a voice behind us. _Simon. _We both spin to find that lanky boy running up. "What are you doing here?"

"We got a note from Magnus!" Clary calls back. "He said that Sebastian's becoming a Silent Brother!"

Simon reaches us. His face is streaked with soot, blood trailing dark lines through it. "What? A note from Magnus? We haven't talked to Magnus in days!"

"What?" Clary's lost her adrenaline rush. It takes most of my strength to keep her up. "What about Seb?"

"Yeah, Sebastian's becoming a Silent Brother. Whoever wrote the note got that part right." Simon notices Clary's weak posture and supports her from the other side. "There was an ambush. A horde of demons pounced on the General and his aides while they were Portaling to Alicante. They set fire to everything."

"Even the manor?" I shout back. The din I couldn't recognize is suddenly familiar—fighting. There's the clash of swords, the roars of the demons.

"No, the manor's fine. But the landscape around it is one big bushfire. The demons are still here." Simon starts moving in the direction he came from. "We need to get Clary to safety. She doesn't look well."

A dark figure moves through the smoke towards us. A Ravener. Disgusting.

"Hold her up! I got this one!" I hand Clary off to Simon and unsheathe Dombra, sprinting forward. The Ravener scurries toward us, opening it's wide mouth. The sharp fingers are prominent, even through the haze.

I shove the sword through the tender tissue of it's upper mouth. The Ravener screams in pain but tries to pounce again. I slash my sword down on what should be its neck and suddenly there's no more demon to behold.

"I'll be on guard!" I yell back, reaching toward my jacket for a stele. I draw the arch of the Clarity rune on my collarbone before zipping the tool into my gear pocket.

The smoke clears somewhat. I can see the outline of the manor to our right and bits of Brocelind forest to our left. In the distance, there are figures that I can't really make out.

"Go towards the front door!" Simon replies.

_There's a corner—then a garden._ We're on the northwest side of the estate, which means the front door should be right around the bend…

I can see the large mass from my point. There are several Shadowhunters defending the doorway, including General Morgenstern. I spot a staff among the many offensive weapons pushing the demons back. _Simon was right. Seb really is becoming a Silent Brother. Why?_

"Jace!" Alec runs up from the smoke. He's breathing hard, sweat and blood mixing to become a grotesque mess on his face. "What—"

"I'll explain later. We need to get Clary to the manor. She's in shock."

There's more to be said but Alec doesn't push. Instead, he guards my back.

More demons come after us. Dombra kills in 1-2 correctly placed slashes, like a large seraph blade. I'm starting to love this sword more than I already did, and that's saying something.

The circle defending the door separates wordlessly as we proceed through. The smoke had wafted through the open doorway, so it's still polluted, though the concentration decreases as we move toward the infirmary. Jocelyn, who'd been with the others, follows us silently.

The infirmary is quiet. I guess no one has been hurt enough to need this kind of help.

Simon lays Clary gently on a bed. His _parabatai_ has her eyes closed and she's breathing heavily. But she's alive.

Jocelyn leans over her. "What happened?"

"It's a long story but we got a note saying Sebastian became a Silent Brother and Clary slipped into shock. She's been like this since we came through the Portal," I say, moving to get closer to my wife.

Jocelyn nods, moving towards the medicine shelf. "You should go back. We need every hand we can get until backup arrives. I'll take care of her—"

Both Simon and I start to argue but we stop when Jocelyn turns, settling an icy glare on us. "I said go."

We exchange a glance before dashing out with Alec. The smoke has receded slightly, dissipating. But the abrupt change from clarity to pollution takes a few moments to get used to.

Fighting isn't the same as it was before. I'm distracted, worried about Clary. Shadowhunters don't usually go into shock, especially Clary of all people. Something else is off.

The demons take a while to fend off because, damn, there were a lot of them. I'm weary and stressed by the time they're exterminated, leaning heavily on Alec for support as he draws iratzes and such on my arm.

Sebastian really is becoming a Silent Brother. I've yet to find out why but he certainly has the wear—he already has the cloak and staff. That must be starter kit or something. But I don't really feel surprised. There's always been a Brother-ish sort of feel to Seb, that removed calm. I guess it was just something waiting to happen.

The others don't know who sent the fire-message, besides the fact that it certainly wasn't Magnus. General Morgenstern offered to let me and Clary go back but I know for a fact that she wouldn't want to, especially not with Seb becoming a Brother. There's too much going on.

I'm in the infirmary now, waiting with Simon at Clary's bed. She's still asleep but her breathing's less labored and there's more color to her skin. That's good.

"Jace, I need to speak with you." Jocelyn appears at my side. She beckons and I silently follow her to the other side of the infirmary. Simon watches us leave.

"Yeah?" I ask once we're a safe distance away. What could Jocelyn want to tell me that's so important she removes us?

"Clary—the reason why she's unconscious is not entirely shock. There's something else," Jocelyn says, gauging my reaction.

My heart speeds up. _Is she sick? Did she get poisoned by a demon?_

"What's wrong?" My voice is tight with anxiety.

Jocelyn lowers her voice to tell me a news I'm sure will tear my life apart. "Clary—she's…Jace…Clary's…"

"What? What's going on with her?" My voice is ragged. Is Clary in danger?

Then she says the last thing I expect.

"Clary's pregnant."

**Hey y'all! I hope you guys are safe and healthy! I just wanted to thank you for your support! From every read to every favorite to every follow to every review, you guys give me the biggest push to keep writing! I just wanted to say that this fanfiction will be finished, even if I don't update for a while. **

**Love ya!**


	12. Chapter 12: The Situation Isn't Hopeless

**Chapter 12: Clary**

Ow.

My head hurts. It's a pounding, aching headache, like a hangover after a night of drinking hard liquor. But I totally don't know how that feels. Ha, you're funny.

I can't see a thing. It's completely black. The darkness feels like it's swallowing me whole, creeping up my body, dulling my senses. I try to move, but the shadows keep me still. I want to cry, scream out for someone to help me, free me. But no one will answer my call.

_Clarissa_. The shadows to seem to whisper, its movement creating a voice. I shiver. _Clarissa. _It says no more than my name, over and over again. My limbs attempt to free once more but it's as if someone drew a paralyzing rune on my body.

My heart begs for Jace. Jace and his warmth, his light, his confidence, his protection. He would help me, let me go. But he doesn't know I'm here, wherever here is. No one does.

My hands tremble for Calohaya. Like Jace, the sword is warm, bright, strong, and sure. Nothing is impossible with Calohaya in my hand. But there's no sheath across my back for it be and even if it were in my grasp, it would fall from immobilization.

_Clarissa. _The shadows grow bolder. They jab at my skin, scrape and scratch. The tiny stings turn into a nuisance and I'm fighting the restraints once more.

I close my eyes. _What can I do to escape this? _The situation isn't hopeless. No. I need to find a way out.

Sudden warmth radiates against my skin. My eyes fly open, looking around in desperation. _Jace? _

It's not Jace. Instead, it's several pale apparitions, the faint outlines of almost-transparent people. Their backs are to me but there's no mistaking the runes on their skin, the weapons in their hand.

_What?_

Even though these…ghosts are mostly iridescent, some coloring cannot be mistaken. Many of them have bright red hair, such as the smaller woman to my immediate left. Next to her is a taller man, with hair the same shade. Beside him was another male, though his hair was golden. Who are these people?

The golden-haired man turns slightly, his own green eyes meeting mine. His face is rather sharp, beautiful, reminding me strongly of Jon and Seb. His mouth is set in a warm smile. This man tickles the edge of my memory, just barely. I _know _this man. I know I do.

A glittering catches my eye. The man is holding a golden sword, which has a dark inscription running along the blade…

Matthew Fairchild.

I stare at him, then looking to the rest of people around me. Are these all Fairchilds?

No. There's white hair—Grandfather Morgenstern. His portrait is a centerpiece of the manor foyer, I could never mistake him. So…Fairchilds and Morgensterns are fighting together? But wait, who has the black hair?

The man at Matthew's right looks back as well. He's raven-haired, his eyes a bright gold. I'm startled at how handsome he is. He reminds me of Jace the way Matthew reminds of my brothers.

There's a sword in the raven-haired man's grip as well. It's black and grey, almost identical to Calohaya otherwise.

Then that would make him James Herondale.

At the presence of these apparitions, the shadows retreat. Feeling overwhelms my neck, my face. I turn my head, looking around. I'm completely surrounded by Fairchilds, Morgensterns, and Herondales.

"What?" I breathe out, shock and awe battling with relief through my veins. _By the Angel, what is going on?_

"You really didn't think we'd just leave you to fend for yourself?" Matthew asks, his accent a strong British one.

"I…How?" I return to Matthew, who's fully turned around, leaning against his _parabatai_. "I hope you realize I'm very confused."

"Ah, yes, confusion. One of life's greatest troubles—"

"Just answer her question," James cut in, his tone donning on the same lilt as Matthew's. "We don't have time for your reflections."

"Who wouldn't have time for them? They are dreadfully important, you know. As Oscar Wilde once said—"

"Matthew…"

"Fine, fine!" My ancestor raises his hands in defeat, his attention coming back to me. "There is an issue. Something beyond your comprehension and quite frankly, my own. That means trouble. You are the only one that holds the solution. Both teams know this and both teams are keeping a close eye on it. You cannot tell anyone, besides your fantastically lovesick husband down there—"

"Watch it, Matthew!" A girl next to James glares at the blonde. Her hair is a light brown, almost like Mom's warlock friend, Tessa Gray. "That's my great-whatever grand-nephew you are talking about there."

Matthew matches her look. "Ignoring the rude interruption by Miss Herondale—"

"I'm Mrs. Blackthorn now, you fool!"

Matthew groans. "Ignoring the rude interruption by _Mrs. Blackthorn_, you can only tell—what's his name? Jonathan, Jace, ah, who cares—your husband. That's it."

Mrs. Blackthorn (Ms. Herondale? I'm trying to catch up but it's so hard) picks up where Matthew leaves off. "You will not be able to do this alone, either. There are certain people you can employ to your assistance. They must be related—directly—to the Lightwoods, Fairchilds, Herondales, Carstairs, or Blackthorns, unless they are Magnus Bane or your _parabatai_. Long ago, there was an incident and you, our descendants, must be the ones to right our wrong."

It's James who speaks last. "The issue will become clearer the longer you wait. Patience is key. You will not have to seek the solution either. But you must use your wit." The others face the darkness, preparing themselves. But James stays with me, his golden eyes, so different yet so similar to Jace's, burning into mine. "We will be with you every step of the way. Matthew is with you in Calohaya, I am with Jonathan in Dombra. You will see Anna Lightwood in Isabelle, Thomas and Christopher in Alexander. We are here and we will help. But you cannot rely on us because the dead and the living should not be intertwined like this. Raziel has allowed the exception on the grounds of the enormity of the situation, considering it affects him more than he would like." James nods. "I wish you luck, Clarissa Fairchild. Or rather, Clarissa Herondale."

In a flash, the ghosts are gone. And then I'm shooting through the dark, towards the light at the end of the tunnel. With a blazing shock of light, I'm hurtled onto an infirmary bed.

Watery images of Jace and Simon appear over my head as I try to blink into consciousness. They both seem to be arguing about something, and whatever it is must be important.

"Dungeons and dragons _can_ be used in lessons. It stimulates higher-level thinking!"

Well, I was wrong.

Jace rolls his eyes. For a moment, I turn out, struck by the difference between his and James's. Where James's are bright and burning, Jace's are pale and cool. But the unmistakeable Herondale cleverness is still there. That probably won't ever change.

"Lovelace, shut up"

"But it's true! Imagine—"

"A world where you are perpetually mute? Already done that."

"You suck."

"Not as well as Clary—"

"Herondale, I will give you one more chance to _stop_ talking about your 'wonderful' love life."

"At least I have one. You, on the other hand—"

Decidedly done with their bickering, I let out a small groan, shifting on the bed. Both men immediately shut up. _Oh, thank the Angel._

"I'll get Brother Enoch." Jace shoots up, out of his chair, and heads out the door.

Simon leans over me. "Clary? Clary? Can you hear me?" His hand slips through mine, the bond between us strengthening almost to the point of burning. It's whirlwind of emotions, all mainly from Simon, who's beyond worried and scared to the point of anger.

I weakly squeeze his fingers, my muscles not yet at their max strength. With a great heave of effort, my eyes open, though they close straight after.

Simon relaxes beside me. "Thank Raziel," he mutters.

A door opens. I open my eyes slightly to watch three figures approach—two Silent Brothers and Jace. One of the Brothers, however, has both his head and hood lowered. Is he a trainee or something?

Jace sits down opposite Simon. He doesn't reach out toward me or show any reaction. His hands are clasped in his lap and his emotions are locked behind their walls. _What's wrong? _echoes in my head.

_Clarissa, I'm glad you are awake_, the Silent Brother says. _You went through quite a bit of action._

I cough, my throat sore. "I'm still so confused," I admit, my voice weak and raspy. It almost makes me cringe. Thank goodness my father isn't in here right now.

_Which, of course, is warranted for someone in your situation. I'll let your companions explain the events of yesterday to you while I fetch the remedies. _The Silent Brother, who I dubbed as Enoch, floats away, the trainee at his heels.

Simon reaches behind him, grabbing a glass of water. Slowly, he assists me into a sitting position, pressing the cool container to my lips. I chug it eagerly, my _parabatai_ chuckling. "If I'd known you were so eager to drink, I would've gotten some rum instead."

I would've hit him, but my muscles said no.

My throat calms its burn as the water slips down my esophagus. When I talk next, it's not nearly as rough as it was before. "You're an ass."

"Wiser words have never been said," Jace adds from his seat a safe distance away. I send him a worried glance, to which he looks away from. _What is wrong with him?_

"You said you were confused," Simon says quickly, as if desperate to get my attention away from Jace. "What do you want to know?"

The potential for answers draws me to Simon. "Hm, let me think. Did Magnus actually write that letter? Is Sebastian a Silent Brother? What the hell did Jace and I arrive during? How the heck did I get in the infirmary? And oh, I don't know, why Jace is so removed?"

Simon flinches and Jace hangs his head. "Well, uh, no, Magnus didn't write that letter. Yes, Sebastian is becoming a Silent Brother. You and Jace arrived during a demon attack. You were carried into the infirmary because you fell unconscious during the trek towards the front of the manor. And that last question is for Jace to answer," Simon says.

Momentarily, I let Jace go. "Who wrote the letter then?"

My friend shrugs. "No one knows. We contacted Magnus but he didn't have a clue either."

"Why—why did Seb become a Silent Brother?" That question has been making its way to the front of my head ever since I found it. Through the craziness of everything, I forgot, but there's no forgetting now. "Was that—that other Brother him?"

Simon nods. "Seb and Jon were out at the Paris Shadow Market when they were attacked by rogue Shadowhunters. Seb was mortally wounded and the only cure the Brothers could think of was making him one of them. General Morgenstern was hesitant but Seb said he actually wanted to become one of them and so it happened."

"Why isn't he back at the Silent City?" I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want Seb to leave, but why hasn't he gone back yet?

"He's going back with Enoch later on. He just came to say goodbye." Simon smiles sadly. "Jon's not taking this well."

I don't blame him. Seb's leaving, most likely forever, and he's not coming back. Once he becomes a Silent Brother, he can never go back. It's a stab at my heart to even hear of him leaving. Tears prick my eyes.

"Clary, Clary, shh, this is want he wants." Simon leans forward, wrapping his arms around my body. He can feel my sadness and wordlessly assists with it. I could ask for a no better _parabatai_.

"What will happen once—once he's gone?"

"I'm not sure, Clarebear, but I know that we'll get through this together. We always have."

I rest my head against his shoulder, trying to fight my tears. They won't help me. If my father saw me crying, he'd lecture me on how crying is weak. Because it is.

Simon and Jace must've had some sort of mental conversation or something because the former pulls away, standing up.

"I need to go to the restroom. I'll be back," he says. Simon needs lying lessons. Jeez.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Jace sighs, visibly trying to gather up courage for the upcoming talk.

"What happened?" The words spill out of me, quiet yet eager.

"You—you fell unconscious when we arrived, I'm sure you remember that. I was immediately concerned. It's not normal for a Shadowhunter to pass out like that," Jace begins. His eyes are cast down, almost ashamed. My heart's beating quick in anticipation. _What is going on? _"We brought you to the infirmary with your mom on our tail. She was the one who initially took care of you until the Silent Brothers arrived. After the fight was over, I came back in here and your mom pulled me aside. She had some…news."

"Is that what has you like this?"

He nods. "Yeah. It's not easy to digest, I'll tell you that much."

"What did she tell you?"

Jace looks up. His eyes are so open, I'm taken aback. Instead of being pale and cold, his face is glowing, so different from what it was before. "She told me that…Clary, she told me that you're pregnant."

You know that moment when your parents tell you some news that splits your world in half? Maybe you're moving or you're adopting a sibling?

Well, multiply that by a thousand and you might just get with in an arm's reach of how I feel right now.

I stare at him, open-mouthed. I realize why Jace looks so happy, so overjoyed—I feel it too. The sensation is dizzying. If I wasn't already laying down, I'd be flat on the floor.

The mere thought of having a child, of being a mother, is enough to make my heart explode. Never mind Sebastian becoming a Silent Brother, or some damned quest some screwy ancestors sent me on. I'm having a child—with _Jace_, nonetheless—and it's the best feeling ever.

"But—but, we just…" Me, forever curious, is asking questions despite the joy. I need help.

Jace nods. "It's the angel blood, Clary. It's a side effect. The baby going to develop faster than normal, though none of the Brothers are sure how much."

I laugh, staring at the ceiling. I always thought that having the extra angel blood was a curse, that I would forever be set apart. But maybe it's not so bad. "I can't believe this."

Jace smiles. "Me neither."

My fingers stretch instinctively, almost crying out for his. Jace seems to understand this message and moves closer, his fingers intertwining with mine. It's like flicking a switch.

Bursts of energy flow from the point where Jace's skin meets my own. It's a blossoming, tingling feeling, like someone injected sunlight into my veins. When I look down, I half-expect to see the blood vessels glowing through my skin.

The feeling moves down my torso and collects in my stomach, right in the womb. I can suddenly _feel _it, the child. I know it's there. It's not much but it's _there_. If I had any doubts (which honestly, I didn't) that Jace was lying, they are extinguished.

"Clary?" Jace leans over me, suddenly concerned.

My smile, if possible, grows even bigger. "I can feel it, Jace."

Those four words seem to set the same reaction off in him. Within seconds, I'm wrapped in a hug, Jace overwhelming my senses. Not that I'm complaining.

When he pulls away, I lay back, almost entirely spent. A lot of energy was just wasted, though I don't really care.

"Who else knows?" I ask, breathlessly.

"Your mother, the Brothers, Alec, and Simon. No one else. We were waiting for you to wake up." Jace looks back at me, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "I love you so much, Clary."

I close my eyes, leaning back, contented to the point of bliss. "Not as much as I love you." With those words, I fall into a warm sleep, the thoughts of children playing through my head.

My father always told me that crying was for the weak. That no matter how terrible the circumstances may be, you should never let tears escape your eyes. He always said that we should shut them away, shove them down.

Apparently, that doesn't apply to my mom.

It's time.

I've been waiting, ever since I woke up, for Sebastian to leave, permanently. For Brother Enoch to whisk him away to the depths of the Silent City, where he'll be for the next year. It was a painful, agonizing wait, but I knew it was coming. It had to.

That didn't make the exit any less hard.

The stone steps of Morgenstern Manor seem to freeze, the chill permeating through my shoes. It only makes the sending off party even harder.

I don't cry as Seb faces us one last time before he leaves forever. I can't. But the pain is still there.

His white hair, which used to match Jon's so freakishly, is gone, leaving a bald, runed head behind. His hood is still down, which means I can still see his eyes, which haven't been shut yet. They are withdrawn, empty, but I know Seb's in there, feeling just as terrible as the rest of us are. There are no words to describe the torture.

To my left is Simon, who has a warm hand on my shoulder. He and Seb were never the closest, considering my brother's quiet nature, but Si knows that I'm in pain and wants to relieve it one every way he can. Jace is behind me, Alec next to him, both silent presences. Their own emotions are locked behind steel doors.

To my right is Aline, who's watching with glistening eyes. I've never seen Aline cry and the possibility of it is terrifying. She's always been so tough, I'd never thought she could break.

My parents are in front of me. Mom is sobbing, her tears dampening my father's otherwise pristine jacket. Dad is like Jace—stone cold. There's absolutely nothing betraying his feelings, except for the fact that Dad is losing a son. It's almost heart-breaking just to watch them.

The worst is Jon. He's not cold, nor openly sad. He's just—empty. Jon's at the bottom of the steps, in between our parents and Seb. I've never seen him so lost. It's like watching a corpse. You know that there's nothing left. Seb seems to see it too.

With a glance toward Brother Enoch, Seb moves forward, just a step, and engulfs Jon into a hug. Jon clings to him, like that last landline you cherish before you float away into the sea. But like everything in life, he had to let go.

Seb pulls away, reaching back to retrieve his hood, retreating. Jon stares, not seeming to register Dad's hand on his shoulder.

Before the Portal takes him away, Seb looks back one more time, thought not to his twin. Instead, he looks to me, sending me a message.

_Take care of him_.

I nod. I'm his sister, it's my job. There's nothing else I can do besides help Jon get through this.

This satisfies Seb. With a final heave of his shoulders, he follows Brother Enoch into the swirling blue mass.

Gone, like a leaf to the wind.

I don't know how long we stand there, wallowing in our own sorrow. Seb is gone. Taken. There's a void in my heart that I'm not sure can be filled. I know Seb isn't dead but becoming a Brother is making him as good as.

Jon breaks the stillness. With a wrench away from my father, he takes off at a sprint, dashing across the field. I watch as he goes.

Mom tries to follow but I hold her back. She looks at me questioningly as I descend down the steps, slowly trailing him.

"Let me," I say, beginning to walk across the grass in front of the house. I can feel the gazes of the Shadowhunters behind me, even as I disappear through the tree line.

After about half an hour of searching, I find Jon on the shores of Lake Lyn. He's sitting, his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the water. He doesn't turn as I make my way across the sand, purposely crunching the gravel to announce my appearance.

I sit next to him, crossing my legs. We don't speak, just sit, sharing in the agony only siblings can feel. I know I'm not Seb, that I'm not his twin, but I'm the only one who can begin to understand.

"It hurts." Two words, more than enough. Jon's voice is scratchy, cracked, but audible. I turn my head, though Jon's still focused on the lake.

"I know."

"He's gone." Two more words, each a stab.

"Yeah."

Then he breaks.

It's like someone smashed a dam. Jon's shoulders heave, water pours from his eyes. He doesn't make a sound but the silence between us is deafening. It's thick with pain, tense with loss.

Wordlessly, I scoot over, my small arm managing to snake its way across his broad back. Jon leans into me, his head buried in the crook of my neck.

We stay there for a long time, silent and hurt. The sun sets and rises. No one comes to look for us.

I used to think the Morgensterns were unbreakable. That we are a family of steel. But I was wrong. We're not invincible. We're merely battle-hardened.

Because at the end of the day, it only takes a drive at the heart to break our wills apart.

**I DIDN'T TAKE THREE MONTHS TO UPDATE!**

**YESSSSS!**

**Are y'all proud of me?**

**Anywho, I just wanted to ask you guys for your opinion on something real quick. Do you guys want me to make Jocelyn/Luke happen, or keep it Jocelyn/Valentine? I can go either way. It's up to you! And just as a bit of insight, the original ships (Malec, Sizzy, Clace, MAYBE a bit of Jemma) will be happening. They are coming, don't worry. **

**Stay safe guys!**


	13. Chapter 13: Not An Ordinary Demon

**Chapter 13: Jace**

Morgenstern Manor has never been so quiet.

It's as if someone died, though there was no white to be seen. Only black, which makes it worse. It seems like everyone has moved on.

Jon hasn't left his room in days. No one enters, save for Clary, and she won't talk about his state. Curiosity and worry are nagging at the rest of us, but her mouth stays firmly shut.

Other than that, it looks like General Morgenstern refuses to let anything change. Everyone (excluding Jon) is going out on patrols and Shadowhunters stream through the front doors constantly, like they used to. But there was a lull in the activity right now, which meant the pain showed.

"Jace!" Alec comes jogging down the hall, a piece of paper in his hand. "Jace!" I stop, allowing him to catch up to me. "We've got a mission."

I raise an eyebrow. It's been a damn long time since I last went on a mission. I was beginning to wonder if the general thought I retired or something. "What's up?"

"There's some suspicious activity near the LA Shadow Market. The Blackthorns reported it a few days ago. We're supposed to go check it out." Alec hands me the paper with the mission details. "Some Downworld murders. No one's really sure if it's demons, Shadowhunters, or rogues. But either way, it's on us."

I nod, scanning the page. "Alright. Meet you in the foyer in 20?"

"Bring Clary with you." Alec jogs down the hall and he turns out of sight.

I backtrack toward the room I share with my wife. Ah, I will never get used to that.

Once I reach the hallway that houses the bedrooms, I send a sparing glance toward Jon's direction. His room is right next to ours, after all. But there is no change. The same locked door and dark room.

The door creaks as I push it open, making me flinch. If Jocelyn were nearby, she'd berate me for disturbing her son. Which is irrational, considering these are stone walls around us, not glass.

I find Clary laying on our bed, sketching. My lips curve into a small smile, my heart exploding just by watching her. She's just so beautiful and kind and talented that I just…oh, forget it, I don't wanna tell you. It's too personal.

I shut the door and make my way to the wardrobe, pulling out some articles of gear and strapping weapons to my belt. I can feel Clary's eyes on me as I do so.

"Going somewhere?" she asks.

"Yeah. Mission with Alec. There's some activity over in LA, near the Shadow Market. We're going to figure it out." I turn, zipping-up the last of my gear. "Care to draw us a Portal?"

She smiles, tossing her sketchbook and grabbing her stele. "Sure."

We make our way down to the foyer, stopping for a few minutes in the weapons room for a resupply and quick make-out session. The last part negates the fact that we are about two minutes late meeting Alec.

My _parabatai's _eyes are suspicious as we come into view. He looks us up and down and then scowls. "You two really can't keep your hands off each other, can you?"

Clary blushes furiously but I grin broadly. "Nope." And I'm proud of it.

He mutters something about an irresponsible person but I don't mind. He's just jealous.

The weather is warm and clear outside. No more smoke. That's a relief.

The land still bears the remnant of the battle. Scorch marks scar the ground, turning a large portion of Morgenstern Manor's front lawn black. Several of the trees lining the property are crisped to the root, many bushes in the same state. It's rather depressing.

However, the great oak still stands. Clary approaches it, her stele outstretched, and sets instrument to wood. Within seconds, a Portal appears.

"There you go," she says, stepping back. "Be safe." She sends me a pointed look. "Especially you."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't save his ass first."

Clary crosses her arms, flipping him off. "You better."

I smirk, shoving my _parabatai_ towards the Portal. "Alright, alright, ladies, you're both pretty."

In exact synchronization, Alec and Clary send me the middle finger. I laugh.

"I'll be home soon, Clare," I tell her, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Don't worry."

"Who said I would?" she asks. But before I can retort, Alec is pushing me through the Portal, cutting off any and all replies.

Shadow Markets are some of the coolest things to exist on this planet.

The massive collection of werewolves, faeries, vampires, and warlocks, all selling different types of wares, entertainment, and information is such an amazing thing to behold. The colors, smells, sounds—it's utterly fantastic.

For the most part, though, Shadowhunters aren't welcome. Since we're the "police" of the Downworld and there are a lot of illegal dealings going on in the Markets, people find us threatening and hostile.

But if you're part of the Circle, you're apart of the Market.

We don't monitor the things other Shadowhunters would arrest Downworlders for. That's simply not our duty. We watch other Shadowhunters—specifically, those that have gone rogue or are extreme anti-Downworld activists. People in the Circle will report extreme forbidden dealings if seen, but for the most part, we don't look for it. And the Downworld is good at hiding things, so the chance of us actually spotting something is rare.

Since we help protect the denizens of the Market as well, we're technically seen as one of them. So when we enter and we have the insignia of the Circle strapped to our biceps, it's always a good time.

I've only ever been to the LA Shadow Market once, maybe about two years ago, the New York and London ones being more my style. That means I'm not overly familiar with the people who stay here but I know a few.

"Jace!" A werewolf I'd met about three months ago in NYC, Phillip, calls over the din of the Market. He's leaning against a bright blue-tented stall, herbs covering his table. Alec and I make our way over to him.

"How you been, man?" I ask, leaning against his wooden posts.

Phillip grins. "I found myself a lady," he drawls, obviously a little bit tipsy. But that's Phillip for you.

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh, really? What's her name?"

"Ivy. She's a real hottie, if you ask me." He grasps behind him, snagging a bottle of whiskey. He takes a long swig. "She works up on the north end."

I nod. "Nice, man, real nice," I say. "What brings you to LA?"

"Got in trouble with the pack in New York," Phillip replies. "The guy leading it, Garroway or Graymark or something, didn't like that I sold belladonna in his area."

Alec flicks his hair out of his eyes, scowling. "Belladonna is not a friendly plant. You can't blame him."

Phillip shrugs. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He gestures between us. "What about you two? Why are you here?"

"A string of murders," I answer. "You happen to know anything?"

Phillip shakes his head. Oh, what a surprise. "No, sorry. But there's this guy. Name's Johnny Rook. He might be able to give you some insight."

"Where is he?" Alec peers down the line of stalls, which goes down so far, you can't see the end.

"I can take you to him," a silky voice interrupts. Magnus Bane appears out of nowhere, coming up beside Alec's shoulder. My _parabatai _jumps. "I assume you're here to investigate the sudden deaths we've seen. I just happen to be wondering the same thing." The rings on his finger cast disco-like reflections onto the surrounding area. A particularly grumpy-looking vampire glares.

I give him a once-over, not trusting of the fact that this is the real Magnus Bane. After all, isn't he supposed to be in New York?

Magnus waves my distrustful attitude off. "Relax, Blondie. It's the real me. I can assure you."

Alec stares at Magnus, like he doesn't quite believe the warlock is standing next to him. When Magnus leans an arm on his shoulder, Alec flushes a dark red. Hm.

"And how so?" I challenge.

"Ask me anything," Magnus answers, looking at his nails with apparent boredom.

"Who did Dombra belong to before it was mine?"

Magnus pierces me with an amused look. "Little Jamie Herondale."

I study him once more before pushing myself off the post. "Lead the way, Mr. Bane."

Magnus starts forward, the crowd immediately parting for him. We follow, bearing the brunt of many suspicious-turned-indifferent gazes.

He leads us through the crowd, passing many odd stalls along the way. Clothing, charmed objects, weapons—you name it, it's here.

As we pass a red-skinned warlock selling spell books, I spot a piece of black leather moving out of the corner of my eye. Is that another Shadowhunter? It could be one of the Blackthorns. But I don't think they frequent this place much. Right?

I nudge Alec with my arm. "I think I just saw another Shadowhunter. I'm going to go check it out. I'll find you two when I'm done."

Alec hesitates but nods anyway. "Don't get yourself into trouble."

I back away, leaving the pair, and duck behind the warlock's table. Out of the hubbub of the Market, it's dark and eerily quiet.

There's movement to my right. I duck low, hiding in an alcove, my head peeking around the corner. There are two figures hidden in another alcove—one tall and thin, the other short and round. The tall man is most certainly a Shadowhunter, his gear practically screaming his race. But I can't quite identify the short one.

After tracing a quick rune on my arm, I'm able to tune into their conversation.

"—and you were able to finish the task?" one man asked. The voice sounded familiar so it had to have been the Shadowhunter. But who was it?

"Yesssss," the short figure answered. The slither of their tongue either meant they were a warlock with a screwed up mark or a demon. Oh, this Nephilim was in hot water.

"And you have the book?" the tall man inquired.

"No."

"Why do you not have the book?"

"The warlock who hassss it protectsss it very well," the demon answered. "I wasss not able to draw him away."

Could that warlock have been Magnus? Was that the demon's ploy? What book were they looking for anyway? Why were they looking for the book? What task had the demon finished?

"Damn it," the Shadowhunter cursed. "Well, then try again. Bane is powerful but he's not invincible. We'll find a way."

I guess the warlock is Magnus.

There are tons of things Magnus could have that this Shadowhunter wants. There's a chance, that with the right clues, we could figure it out and Magnus could increase the protection. But it's still a broad topic.

I think about confronting the Shadowhunter. I could easily take him down and then he would be tried by the Mortal Sword (most likely, in any case). The whole thing would be called off.

Just as I step out the approach the pair, I see that I had missed a very important detail.

This is not an ordinary demon.

As children, we're given an extensive lesson on Greater Demons, so on the off-chance that we ever meet one, we know what to do. And thank the Angel for that.

Because this demon is damn Mrs. Dark.

Mrs. Dark is in the form of a short, plump lady. Some memory tickles at the back of my head, almost like I've seen this woman in some sort of history book before, but I can't place her. Memory can really suck sometimes.

I retreat. It would be foolish to take on a Greater Demon and a trained Shadowhunter by myself. I'm reckless, yeah, but not stupid. Fighting them is asking for death.

Something makes the Nephilim jump. "I have to go," the Shadowhunter says, skirting around Mrs. Dark.

He leaves, careful not to touch her in any way. She watches him leave before retreating into the shadows. I return to the chaos of the Market, fast and quiet so she wouldn't realize someone had been watching.

Thank goodness that Magnus takes a glitter bath every morning. If he didn't, then I don't think I would've been able to find them.

The pair is at a stall, facing off with a tall, graying-haired man. The man is getting particularly angry, Alec just the same. Magnus is watching with cool indifference.

"—I don't serve Shadowhunters," the man, presumably Johnny Rook, spits. "Even the Circle ones."

"Yeah, well if you don't want these murders to continue, you're going to have to," Alec returns, placing his hands on Rook's table. The little encounter is gathering a crowd.

I stroll up, taking up my spot against one of Rook's posts. "What'd I miss?" I ask.

"Nothing much, just this asshole not giving us information on these murders." Alec turns to Rook. "It's simple talk, man. Just tell us what you know."

"If you want to know, go ask the Institute. I'm sure they have enough for you," Rook snarks back.

"Come on, Rook!" some guy calls from the back of the gathering crowd. "These Nephilim are here to solve these murders! Give 'em something!" The rest of the horde murmurs in agreement.

Rook scowls, shaking his head. "I refuse. I don't like dealing with Shadowhunters."

Purposefully, I pull out a dagger and twirl it between my fingers. Rook eyes it with contempt. "Tell us where they are, who they've killed. That's it. That's all we need."

He shakes his head. "No."

There's a rustle and then the crowd shuffles. I turn just as Barnabas Hale emerges from the congregation.

He waves away from Rook's stall. His eyes narrow in distaste at the sight of us but doesn't order us away. He's less friendly to the Circle than most Downworlders but tolerates our presence because we keep the annoying Shadowhunters out of his hair.

"I assume you're here because of the deaths," he asks, piercing us with his yellow eyes.

I nod. "Happen to know anything?"

"I own this place, Herondale. Of course I do." He spins on his heel, walking away. "Follow me."

I send Rook one last look, just to say _ha_ but his expression stops me. Rook's unusually tense, staring at me with frozen eyes. His gaze studies me before he slips away, out of sight.

Well. That was weird.

Brushing the rude man off, I go to catch up to the other three. My head's spinning with information and confusion—I need to get Alec and Magnus alone soon. Especially Magnus. But first, we need to solve these murders.

When I get back to Morgenstern Manor, it's late. We spent most of the night investigating with Magnus and Barnabas, going from site to site and gathering information from people who knew the victims. It took a long time, considering there were easily over 10 deaths. But by this point, we had enough clues to start a full search.

Alec and Magnus left for New York together, saying that they were going to look over the clues. My _parabatai_ also had to check up on the Institute there, so it was a win-win. For the most part.

I never got the chance to talk to Magnus and Alec though, which made me anxious. If I didn't have anything to do tomorrow, I would head straight for New York. Mrs. Dark was dangerous and cunning—Magnus would appreciate the forewarning.

Clary's lying on our bed, once again sketching. She's wearing one of my shirts and no pants, which turns me on to no end. But I'm too damn tired to do anything about it.

"How'd it go?" she asks, placing her pad and pencil on her nightstand. "Do you have anything to go on?"

I nod, pulling my jacket off. "Yeah. We got some help from Barnabas Hale, the guy who owns the Market. Alec and I are going to go back with a few extra people in a couple of days. We're pretty stocked on information."

I pause, wanting to tell her about the conversation between the Shadowhunter and Mrs. Dark. I could trust Clary, I knew, but would this make her want to go into action? Would it stress her out? Because if so, no. It wouldn't be good for the baby.

"Jace?" Clary pushes. "What else is there?"

Damn. She knows me too well.

"I saw a Shadowhunter while we were talking to some werewolf," I say, turning away to hang my stuff up. I can feel Clary's gaze on my back. "I went after him, just to make sure he wasn't wreaking any havoc." From there, I proceed to tell Clary about everything that happened at the Market, from the conversation to Rook's weird reaction to something Barnabas said.

At the end, I find myself dirty and itching for a shower. "I'm going to wash off. I'll be back."

I slide into the bathroom closing the door. The water feels good rolling down my body, washing away the grime of the day's work. By the time I get out, the mirror is fogged and my mind is relaxed. Good.

Clary's in deep through by the time I crawl into bed next to her. The only response I can elicit before talking is her automatically cuddling into my arm.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Clary jumps at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, um, nothing," she stutters. I stare at her. She sighs. "There's something I have to tell you. Something just as confusing as what you just told me, something that maybe is just a figment of my imagination. But I think you should know."

And then Clary freaking blows my damn mind.

**Sorry for the long wait, guys!**

**I**** hope you like the chapter. I've been adding a lot of plot points to my outline and we're on the way up to the climax. Spicy things will be happening soon, don't worry!**

**Shoutout to Helena Blackthorn and SkyBell1272 as well! I'll definitely keep your requests in mind...**

**Patience is key my friends.**

**AnYwHo**

**Review if you want to. You don't have to but it really does help. **

**:)**


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